The Mistaken M Jones
by moonswirl
Summary: Gleekathon, days 1618a-1655a (daily): One day in the summer before graduating, Mercedes Jones was pulled into a case of mistaken identity, soon faced with the Doctor and Martha Jones. - DW/Glee crossover #7
1. What Surrounds

_Started my daily ficlets to make the hiatus pass, then decided to keep going with a 2nd cycle, and then a 3rd, 4th, etc through 77th cycle. Now cycle 78!_

* * *

**"_The Mistaken M. Jones"  
_****_Doctor Who/Glee crossover #7 (following "The Benevolent Doctor")  
DW: 10th + Martha, 9th + Rose, 11th + Clara  
Glee: Mercedes, Quinn, Artie, Puck, Sugar, Santana, Brittany_**

**_A/N: Updates will now be daily, if I have any hopes of finishing this series anytime soon ;)_**

**_1. What Surrounds_**

_March 2012 – Lima, Ohio_

Mercedes had carried this secret for nearly an entire year already, and she had to admit there was a bit of pride in that. There she'd been, one amongst many at McKinley High, and only she knew about what she'd experienced over those days the summer before. Only she had met the people she did… or she'd thought. She had been sworn to secrecy, and that had been fine. Who would even believe her here? And to be truthful, she liked having this thing that was just hers.

Except now she knew that wasn't the case. It wasn't just hers, it was Quinn's, too, and if she was to believed, there were others here who'd also had this experience. She could have lingered in this feeling of suddenly not being as unique as she'd believed herself to be, but then the moment Quinn had proven herself to know about the alien man Mercedes had started feeling something like joy. As nice as it had been to have that all to herself, the potential to talk about it with someone else, a friend, also had its advantages, possibly outweighing the rest.

They hadn't gone too far into the subject on that day in the library. Mercedes had to get to class, and even though they were in a quiet place, it didn't feel right to be so exposed. So that afternoon, they'd gone the both of them to get Slushies.

"Are there really others?" Mercedes asked. Quinn nodded. "How many? Who?"

"It might be best if I didn't tell you," Quinn frowned to herself.

"Why not? You just told me…"

"If you did know, you couldn't tell them."

"Why not?"

"Mercedes, you have to keep it a secret. No one can know that you know about him, not now. If you don't know who it is here that knows about him, it'll be easier not to give it away, won't it?"

"You don't trust me, is that it? Who made you the boss anyway?" Mercedes asked, getting aggravated.

"I was told to say 'your friend with the sunglasses,'" Quinn recited, not sure herself what that meant. Mercedes for her part froze, looking back at her. "That mean something to you?" Mercedes nodded. "Then from her, you can't tell anyone." Mercedes hesitated.

"Fine. But what if they come to me, like you did?"

"Then you lie. You tell them you have no idea what they're talking about. And you come to tell me." Mercedes sighed. She didn't know what this all meant, but she had a strong feeling that something was going on, something she didn't know about, something possibly dangerous.

"So… You met him…"

"When I had my accident, or well, right before I had my accident," Quinn nodded.

"Just him?"

"Yeah, just him."

"My Doctors, when I met them, they had a companion with them," Mercedes declared.

"So I've heard," Quinn nodded. The others, every one of them, had mentioned these people. Rose, Jack, Martha… Gemma. Who knew who else? "But when I met him, he was alone."

"What happened?"

"I got thrown back in time when this guy popped up in my car. I was lost, on my own, and then I met the Doctor… He showed me his ship," she smiled, reminiscing. "We had to find the guy who brought me there, so I could go home, and then there was this sort of circus, but the people who were performing there, they were aliens, captured, forced to do things in there, like circus acts. We helped to free them, brought them back to where they belonged. And then I was sent back and…" she motioned to her chair.

"Woah…" Mercedes was stunned, and she took a gulp of her Slushie, so distracted that the cold went to her brain and she had to pause until it would subside. "Sorry," she laughed.

"You said you met more than one," Quinn smiled.

"Yeah," Mercedes nodded, her thoughts going back to that summer. "It didn't happen right away, and not all at once. I was on my own for a while, but then he came, one of them…" she frowned. Even after all she'd been through, and regardless of the fact that it had been explained to her, more than once, the concept still didn't seem completely sound, that one man could turn into another and still be the same person except not really. Even if he was an alien and it was a relatively 'alien' thing to do, it was still absolutely mind boggling.

As Mercedes would share her story, Quinn would see how much her friend had been eager to speak about this, to her, to anyone, and she knew exactly how that felt. Up until a few days ago, Gemma excluded, she'd been going around with this event that she could tell no one about, and she had felt so much better when she'd gotten to let it out. Was this why Gemma had told her to seek Mercedes out? Because she knew she had this thing in her heart that needed getting out and she wanted to provide that to her? If that was the case, was it possible there were more? As the weeks had gone by, there had been more and more of them, so what were the odds that there would be others?

Then there was the Gemma thing. In telling her to approach Mercedes, she had specified not to tell her about her involvement yet. Quinn knew, from having spoken to Gemma and to the others that the companion/substitute teacher had been getting around, visiting this one and that one in their encounters with the Doctor. So far, Mercedes had not mentioned having seen her while she was out there, but what if she had? Would she ever put two and two together?

For now, all that she could have done was good and dealt with. She had been a willing ear for Mercedes, and she had given her the warnings she needed to give her. Now that it was done, there wasn't much else she could do, was there? Besides, Gemma's current stint at McKinley was a short one and would be done after tomorrow.

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	2. For the Long Haul

**"The Mistaken M. Jones"**

**2. For the Long Haul**

_March 2012 – Lima, Ohio_

Gemma had one more day at McKinley before she'd be back in her standstill position, waiting for another posting, waiting for another… everything. Not that she minded the free time, of course. She'd made a pretty good dent in her piles of books, which was becoming more substantial now that she'd begged the Doctor to stop sending her more until she was ready to need more. She had the feeling somewhere on the TARDIS, the Doctor was still slowly accumulating new books to send her, so that when she did ask for more, if it came to that, she would receive twenty full boxes… or more.

She had one of those books of hers tucked under her arm from the bus ride home, when she'd gone to check her mailbox. She wasn't exactly getting much mail, especially as the bills were being handled before they ever reached her, but then who knew?

It was a good thing she'd looked, too, because right there, when the small door was opened, a pair of envelopes with the Doctor's neat handwriting were waiting for her. Gemma knew the difference by now, when she got mail slipped under her door, versus when she got it in the mailbox, and maybe for that, when her phone rang, she wasn't quite as surprised to see the number for McKinley High.

They were calling to ask if she'd be available to carry on the position she presently held, not for just the one extra day but for the remainder of the school year.

That part she had not expected, and the book and envelopes slipped out of her hands. That startled her enough to confirm that, yes, she would gladly take the post. The call ended, and Gemma slowly shut her mail box door, left with her phone and keys in hand.

The rest of the year… She may not have had all the details right there for her, but even then she knew what they were headed toward, and somehow she hadn't even been considering how they were getting closer to it. True, there were still several weeks to go before it did all come to a head, but this turn made it that much clearer that she was closer to the end than the beginning. She'd been here for so long already that she almost didn't remember what 'before' was like anymore enough that she would know how to deal with 'after.'

"Are those yours?" a man's voice asked, and she blinked, following the sound to see who was standing just inside the door to the building. Walter Reskin, who lived one floor above her.

"What?" she blinked, lost for a moment, until he pointed to the ground and she saw them: the book, the envelopes. "Oh…" she was quick to crouch and gather them up again. She slipped the envelopes into the book, absently making sure that it had not been damaged and that she had not lost her page. She wouldn't have dared to dog-ear the pages, fearing what the Doctor would say, even if it was something she did, which it wasn't, and she knew her bookmark had a way of slipping out…

She'd still been caught up in thinking about all this, for reasons she couldn't explain, and for that, she didn't see her neighbor put on his 'brace yourself' face and take a step forward.

"Listen… Ginny… I have this friend, he opened a restaurant not too long ago, it's supposed to be great but I haven't been yet. I was thinking, maybe you might like to go, with me."

All thoughts of books and bookmarks went away, and her head slowly rose again.

All this time, she'd been doing her best to keep this moment from happening. It was easier to turn him away if he didn't actually manage to put an offer in front of her like this. This whole situation, being aware that he was into her, was not something new to her, and she wished that the circumstances had changed since the last time, and the time before that, but they hadn't. She was still a temporary resident of Lima and of the year 2012. In a few months' time, she would be gone, back to the TARDIS, back to the Doctor, and Walter Reskin would be a distant memory.

Looking at him now though, her thoughts were in turmoil and her heart was the one stirring it all up. She couldn't pretend that she didn't feel anything when she looked at him. If she could, then she wouldn't even need to dodge him. She'd just tell him, point blank, that she had no interest in getting to know him any further than she already did. _Can't tell him that, can you?_ It wasn't fair to keep pulling him along this way, when she knew she couldn't do anything to change it all, but against all odds he had been a sort of friend to her all this time, and she did want to know more about him, spend more time with…

_Oh, hell…_

"That sounds… Sure," she breathed out, and she was as surprised that she'd said it as he was that he'd heard it.

"Really?" he blurted out, then caught himself and tried to look less shocked. "I mean… good," he smiled, and for never having seen him so outwardly happy, Gemma felt her knees weaken. He really did something to her, didn't he?

"Yeah," she volunteered a smile back.

They had fixed a day and time, and then they'd both gone on their way, he to his apartment, her to hers. It was only once she was safely back behind her door that she let out a breath and smacked her hand against her forehead. What had she done? If her heart would just stop doing somersaults, she could properly chastise herself about it…

For the time being, she tried to focus back on her actual task. She extracted the envelopes from within her book and opened them each in turn, inspecting what was within. Once she'd read both envelopes' contents, she started to believe maybe she understood why she needed to be at McKinley full time from now on.

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	3. M Jones

**"The Mistaken M. Jones"**

**3. M. Jones**

_Lima, Ohio, Summer 2011_

Sometime in the last few weeks, her parents had evidently gone and remembered that she was graduating at the end of her next school year, because all of a sudden college was so popular a word in the Jones household that she could have made a fortune off of how many times it came up. She didn't want to argue with either her mother or father, so she went along with most of it. The truth was, she didn't have as solid of a plan as she would have liked to have herself, so going along with her parents could both guarantee that they didn't find out and give her the opportunity to maybe pick up on a thing or two she needed to pick up on. One of these days though, it would all come to a head, and she was not all that anxious.

Every once in a while, she would go for a walk, leaving the house, the parents, and the piles of brochures and internet printouts and notes, in favor of fresh air to her lungs and her brain.

On that day, she'd gone and gotten herself something cold from the coffee shop and was taking her time walking back, deciding to cut through the park. It was incredible the amount of things that became suddenly interesting to you when you didn't want to be somewhere else. Even then, what happened next took her completely by surprise.

All she could think was that the space between the two trees up ahead was shimmering, sort of in the way air did when a barbecue was going, or a day was particularly hot, which this one wasn't, but much more intense. It almost crackled, blue and gold, and then something even more incomprehensible happened: a man appeared. He fell right through the shimmering gap.

He looked to be in his late thirties, maybe forties, although by how messed up he was, he might have been much younger and she'd have had no idea. He was wearing something that might have been a uniform, back when it wasn't dirty and torn. His hair had been sheared to near extinction, and there were a number of healed scars on his face and his head. Her first instincts, seeing he might have been injured, was to go to him. Within minutes, she would regret this move; within days, she would revise that judgement.

"Hey, are you okay?" she asked the man. He looked up at the sound of her voice, and there was something about his face, like he'd found salvation.

"You're… you're her…" he stumbled toward her, grabbing hold of her arms. She wanted to back away, but he looked like he was about to cry he was so happy. "Jones, it's you, I found you…" he was struggling for breath.

"How do you know my name?" she asked, suddenly wishing he'd let go of her.

"They said… They said, right before, they said look for the one called Jones, she will help, she knows the Time Lord. Find her, find M… And then I was gone. Your name, what is it, your other name?"

"I… Mercedes," she said before she could think it through, and then his relief was grander.

"I found you, please…" he spoke, and then she felt something cold close around her wrist. When she looked down, there was a silver sort of bracelet around her arm. "You have to help, there isn't much time, please…"

"No, but I'm not…"

Before she could go on, his grip had released and he'd fallen to the grass. She crouched to his side and felt at his pulse… Nothing. And in the next moment, there was a pulsing tone at her wrist. She looked to the bracelet. The inside part, below her palm, had a clock, a timer, and it was running out. _00:00:02. 00:00:01. 00:00:00. _And then the whole world compressed on her.

X

In those first seconds where awareness reasserted itself, she didn't remember what had happened a moment before, or where she was, but with each second more things became known. Primarily, she felt that she was on the ground, on her side. Then there was the sound… sounds… Voices and engines surrounded her, and then a girl's voice.

"What happened to you, did you fall?"

"I don't know, I…" It was the chill of metal on her wrist that brought it all back, the memory of the dying man, and what had happened when the clock had struck zero. Now she looked at it again, her vision clearing. _11:59:38. 11:59:37. 11:59:36…_

"What is that?" the girl asked, and Mercedes finally looked up at her. Her hair was blue, vibrant blue and tied in a thick braid that rested around her shoulder. Her skin was fair and unbroken, though there was a trail of markings along her hairline, as blue as her hair. She would guess this was a cosmetic choice somehow. She was wearing a uniform, and it took only a few seconds more for Mercedes to realize that, unspoiled and unbroken, it was the same as that which the man wore.

"Nothing, it's nothing," she shook her head, deciding it was better not to say anything about it.

"You should hurry and get changed, the transport is leaving soon and they won't be pleased if you hold us up," the girl whispered.

"Hold… What?"

"You two!" a man's voice barked, and the blue-haired girl scampered off, joining the throngs of others standing nearby. They all wore the same uniforms, all of them looking her age, give or take a year. Many of them had hair colored like the girl had, many of them with markings on their faces that matched their hair. The man that came toward her though had no markings, nor much hair to match really. "What are you doing on the ground, and why aren't you dressed? You'll be one of those, won't you? Where is your ticket?"

"Ticket?" The man looked aggravated but also like he was used to this.

"Gravis, deal with this one, will you?" he went off, and having just managed to rise, Mercedes followed her initial instinct: she ran.

She was not so fast though, and the other man, Gravis, caught up to her and grabbed her arm, pulling her along back toward the crowd. Beyond those young ones in the uniforms, there were others, older, possibly parents, and even more others might have been observers. Some of them carried what she thought looked like cameras.

"Please! There was a mistake! It's not me! I don't belong here!"

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	4. Accelerate

**"The Mistaken M. Jones"**

**4. Accelerate**

_March 2012 – Lima, Ohio_

There was no way around it. The moment one of them found out, it was like a chain reaction. Sugar had found it out first, and she'd hurried to find Artie and tell him. When he'd known, he'd had little to no time to decide what to do about it, because Santana had seen them talking, and she'd come over, asking what was happening. As it wasn't specifically anything he could control, only a fact that would make its way around whether he wanted it or not, Artie told her. Now, this had led for Santana to decide they all needed to gather, all of them who were in the know. Before he could do anything about it, he'd been tasked with tracking Puck down, Sugar had to find Quinn, and Santana would find Brittany, and they would all meet in the choir room.

It took ten minutes before all six of them were gathered. This one had been in the bathroom, that one in the principal's office… But now they were all together, and just when Artie thought Santana might carry on acting like she was in charge, she'd turned the news on to him to reveal. That almost made it worse. He took in a breath, let it out.

"So it turns out Miss Harrison is staying through the rest of the school year."

"Nice," Brittany beamed, and they looked at her. "What? I like her," she shrugged.

"Okay, but do any of us even believe her being here really has anything to do with why the teachers are gone? What's to say she hasn't been going around leaving laxative surprises at their doors so they'll be down for the count and she can swoop in?" Santana pointed out. Sugar's face scrunched up at the thought.

"Maybe she has something to do with it," Artie relented, though far from happily so. "What's the point?"

"The point is she's going to be staying, full time. It has to mean something, doesn't it?"

"Like what?" Quinn asked.

Santana could have made it so they left her out of this. She'd been 'briefed' on the Ginny/Gemma situation, but with what Santana had seen, there were so many new questions left hanging. Her trust in Quinn Fabray was a debatable and interchangeable factor as it was, but now with the added threat of this unknown situation with Gemma and the Doctor, the fact that she might be conspiring behind their backs… At least if she was here though, they could keep an eye on her, and she could try and figure out what her game was.

"Like whatever she's here for, it's all going to happen, sooner, not later." This left them all to ponder things to themselves.

"You're not still thinking about confronting her, are you?" Artie asked Santana, who turned to him.

"What are you going to do, make Brittany convince me not to again?" The blonde lifted her head, nervous, but when Santana looked at her, it was clear that if she was angry at anyone, it was at Artie and never at her. "At this point, don't you think she owes us…"

"Why would she owe you anything?" Quinn cut in. Santana turned; this she wanted to hear. "Now, unless I've missed something here, and I know I haven't, she's on our side. She's a friend of the Doctor. But you're standing here treating her like she's doing something wrong. If she is doing something, if it's anything that you need to know about, don't you think she would tell you? But she hasn't, has she? So maybe you should leave her alone until she comes to you, if she needs to."

Artie looked like he'd never been so glad to have Quinn Fabray in this circle. Santana stared at her like she'd never been this frustrated to have to admit she might be right about something.

"I get that you hate not knowing, really, I do. I want to know, too."

"Uh, we should get to class," Sugar pointed out, looking at the clock on the wall.

They'd disbanded after this, all of them headed toward their respective classes. Artie had been on his own, and he'd been briefly thinking about what had been discussed, when he felt a familiar weight on his chair's handles.

"Puck, what…"

"Look, I know what we said in there, but don't you think we should speed things up a bit?" he asked, pushing the chair down the hall.

"Speed things up how?" Artie asked, nervous both for the subject and for the control of his chair being in the hands of Noah Puckerman.

"I don't know… not yet… But, hey, we'll get together later and figure it out, alright?"

Before Artie could reply, Puck had let go of his chair and gone on his way, forcing Artie to quickly grab on to his wheels again before he could ram into a row of lockers. He took a deep breath, needing a moment to situate himself again and go on his way.

Maybe he needed to go and talk to Gemma again. She might tell him what he was supposed to do, how he could deal with the rising need for information within this group. Of course that would mean admitting that the group had doubled in size since they'd spoken. Then there was how they'd been figuring this and that about her reasons for being there, what she was really doing… He didn't want to make it seem like they were invading her privacy. He had known her, all those years ago, when he'd been a kid and she'd been… the same. He knew who she was, more than any of those other guys did, and for that reason he wanted to protect her, in whatever way he could. Maybe if he showed that he could help her on his side, she would tell him more, let him do more. He wanted to help the Doctor, too.

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	5. One Life & Another

**"The Mistaken M. Jones"**

**5. One Life & Another**

_March 2012 – Lima, Ohio_

When she'd sat to figure out her lesson plans, now that 'the near future' was shaping to be only the beginning of so much more, she'd realized it. Even without telling her, it had all been headed this way, all these weeks. The books she'd been given, the books she'd read, they'd all been working together to build her knowledge, and that knowledge she had was just what she needed… to teach this class, from this point on through the end of the year, without falling on her face. She had half a mind to shut her eyes tight and send the Doctor a strongly worded comment…

But for now she had other things to worry herself over, like her classes for that day, and students, both in and out of her class. So the Doctor, for now, would have her reprieve.

She knew Quinn had done what she'd asked her to. When she saw Mercedes, the girl had a look on her face like a veil had been lifted off her eyes and the world was freshened up, opened up. She wished this didn't have to involve leaving her to wonder which of her classmates had met the Doctor, same as she'd done, but for the time being, that was how it had to be. She wouldn't have been told about her involvement either, if all was going as it was supposed to.

Of course, now that those days from the summer before were being freshened up in her head, it might have only been a matter of time before the memory the woman in the sunglasses connected with the image of her substitute teacher. Gemma had kept her sunglasses on when she'd gone over that morning before getting in to work, hoping it would manage to keep the image blurry enough in Mercedes' memory that she wouldn't connect the dots. She'd tried and misdirected her by imitating the Doctor's accent, the only one she could think of, but even then she wouldn't have been surprised if she figured it out.

"Hey there!" she was greeted by a cheerful Coach Beiste when she stepped into the teachers' lounge. She still felt like a bit of an intruder in that place sometimes, but she had friends now, like Shannon Beiste, and that helped. "Heard you're sticking around here."

"Yeah," she confirmed, taking a seat at the table where the coach was.

"Well, good, we could use teachers like you around here." Gemma tried not to smile so wide, but she couldn't help it.

"That… That means a lot, really," she nodded. Now that she was swimming in happiness, it was only half a surprise just how fast her mind conjured up Walter's face. But then she did remember the anxiety underneath this upcoming date, and her smile faltered.

"You alright?" Beiste asked, catching on.

"I… yeah…" she shook her head, deciding she shouldn't put this on to the coach.

"Hey, come on," Beiste gave her an encouraging smile. "No sense in keeping things bottled up, trust me, I used to do that… It wasn't pretty," she chuckled.

Gemma hesitated, looking at her. The two were nothing alike, but sometimes when she'd talk with the coach, it felt like talking with her mother. She'd been missing her, and her father, her whole family, more and more each day, and with this… promotion… it only made her feel the days they'd been apart more and more. At least when she was travelling with the Doctor, everything they did, it made time go by in a different way, made the gaps in between her visits home that much more bearable. Today, neither of her parents had even been born, she couldn't get to them. She could have used the vortex manipulator and it would have been a piece of cake. The Doctor hadn't actually told her she wasn't allowed to do it, but Gemma had put the rule on herself. With how long this whole thing had been going, and would keep going, the temptation existed. All it took was her slipping once, and she'd be done for. _And then there's Walter…_

"I have a, uh… I have a date coming up…" she finally explained, and Beiste smirked.

"Nice guy?"

"The best," she admitted, to the coach and herself both.

"Alright, well then what's with the face? You look like you're already trying to break it off with this guy." _It would be the kind thing to do. I can't stay with him._

"His heart is whole, why break it?"

"Hey, Ginny, come on. I know we haven't known each other that long, but I see how you are with the kids, with us… This guy, if he's as good as you say he is, then the two of you might have something together. You just need to take a chance."

She wished she could tell her the truth, the whole truth. Then maybe she'd understand why it wasn't so simple. _Maybe it is._ That's what her mother would say; they really would get along, her and the coach, wouldn't they… But no, it really wasn't that easy, and she would hope that her mother, knowing what she knew, would get that.

She'd gone deep into her own world, so deep that it took feeling someone's hand on hers for her to come back up, and she turned to find Beiste was holding her hand. Did she really look that sad? Judging by her face, she must have.

"Don't give up before even trying. Otherwise you'll always remember it that way. At least go out with him once, and if you really can't make it work, then… find a way to let him down easy."

By the end of the day, it would have been the longest she'd gone without thinking whether or not to cancel the date. And it went on that way the next day… She might not have known whether or not they would have a second date, but she'd committed to this one and she would go through with it. It might well be that, by the end of the night, she'd know for sure. The date would tell her which way to go.

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	6. In a Strange World

**"The Mistaken M. Jones"**

**6. In a Strange World**

_Earth, in the year 4509_

When they gave her the uniform, Mercedes was still too lost to really do much else but take it and go where they told her to go. Gravis, a younger and evidently gentler person compared to the first man who'd found her, had let go of her once she'd nodded to his promise he would only lead her and not touch her, but she had to go along. No one was going to hurt her, he vowed, and she didn't know if that would be true, but at this point there was nothing else to do. And once she was in that dressing room, she could have a moment at last to stop and process everything that was happening to her.

She had gone somewhere else. Wherever she was, it was not Lima, or Ohio, and she didn't even know if this was the United States, or, as she feared, Earth at all. The people looked strange, the buildings didn't look right, and she was almost sure she'd seen some kind of spaceship. Maybe none of it was real. She could be dreaming, she could be in a coma and this was the kind of dream her head thought fit to project on to her. Except she could still feel the pinch in her arm from when Gravis had first caught up to her after she'd started to run, and then there was the bracelet, cold to her skin. _11:45:03. 11:45:02. 11:45:01…_

She looked at the uniform in her lap. On the sleeves, there were patches. She had vaguely been aware as the woman at the counter had fixed them there before giving the pile to Gravis. One side had a sun with the number 7 in the middle. At least it looked like a sun to her. On the other side, there was a strange sort of shape, a rock maybe, smaller ones around it. Over this patch, there was a single pip. Now that she was seeing this, she was remembering more. The dead man, he had more of those pips, in different colors. The girl with the blue hair, she had only the one, like her, but she was sure she'd seen her other arm, and it had a moon, the number 4. The rest of the uniform was primarily a leafy sort of green.

What was going to happen to her once she put it on? From what she'd gathered, all those others in the uniforms, they were going somewhere soon, and they believed she was one of them, that she was supposed to go, too, but… but she wasn't, was she?

Finally, knowing she had no other way, she started changing. The uniform surprisingly fit her just fine. The colors didn't do all that much for her, but for once that was the least of her worries. She walked hesitantly out of the dressing room, and there Gravis ushered her outside again.

"Where's your ticket?" he asked, and she sighed.

"I told that guy, I don't…"

There was a commotion somewhere near, and both Mercedes and Gravis looked up to see the throngs of youths in uniform were headed to the left. Gravis called out to a woman in a uniform like his, who shouted back that there was a problem with the craft, and the departure was delayed for a few hours.

The next thing Mercedes knew, she was being sent to join the others as they were taken to a large room not unlike an assembly hall. They all sat, and the waiting began. _11:11:54. 11:11:53. 11:11:52…_

"Hey, let me see… Day team seven?" She hadn't seen the blue haired girl come up and take hold of one of her arms until she was there, staring at the patch with the sun. "I'm Night team four," she showed her own arm. I don't mind, I guess," she shrugged. "Night or day, there's no use complaining, we have to get through it one way or the other."

"Get through what?" Mercedes was growing continually more unnerved.

"Our digger years, what else?" the blue-haired girl shrugged again. "I don't think I've seen you around here before. You're not from the city, are you?" she guessed. "I'm Savelyn."

"M… Mercedes," she replied before she could consider whether or not it was wise to give her real name or not. Of course, the bigger concern here was this thing the girl had said just before. _What are digger years?_ She wanted to ask her, but she knew if she did then the friendly girl with the blue hair might start to wonder about her, and she could land herself in even bigger trouble. "Yeah… not from the city," she shook her head, hoping it would get her in the clear.

It did. After this, though Savelyn stayed near her, she sat down and closed her eyes. She was napping, nothing better to do. Mercedes watched her, wishing she could get herself to sleep, too. Maybe when she woke up she'd be back home, in Lima. She would have given anything to hear her father go on about how dentistry was a nice option for her. She might even do it, so he could have his family clinic idea happen.

The hours passed, and Mercedes might have been the most on edge person there. The others in the green uniforms were amassed in the room, a lot of them napping like Savelyn, others whispering together like little rainbow clusters if their heads were close enough together. Then there were some who looked nervous, but they mostly kept it in to themselves. There was one boy, his hair clashing horribly with his uniform, being orange and making him look like a carrot stub standing on long leafy stalks. He looked… sad. She didn't know what it was about him, but she had been on the verge of tempting fate and going to speak with him, when a woman stepped up to her.

"You, come with me for a minute."

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	7. Tick Tock

**"The Mistaken M. Jones"**

**7. Tick Tock**

_Earth, in the year 4509_

She'd seen a few others get taken into another room throughout the hours, before they'd come back out and return to where they'd been. She didn't know what it was about, but none of them had seemed at all perturbed to have been called, and they looked the same when they came out again, so she wasn't going to get concerned for that, except that she doubted that any of them had gotten here the way she'd done. She looked ahead to the woman who'd come to escort her away, and the only thing she could pinpoint that set her apart so far was that her hair was brown, not at all dyed like the others. She also wore sunglasses, which kept part of her face obscured, and it wouldn't be until a few minutes later that she'd see her uniform looked a size too big.

Primarily, she did notice that she wasn't being led into those same little rooms the others had been taken to. The woman was taking her out a side door, and as she stepped through with her, they were outside, in a blocked off alleyway.

"If this is about my ticket, I…"

"Mercedes…" the woman addressed her, and Mercedes blinked, staring back at her.

"How do you know my name?" she found herself asking, and not for the first time.

"I'd tell you, but that would be a longer story than what we have time for," the woman told her. "They'll come looking for you if they notice you're gone too long."

"Yeah, but I don't…"

"… don't belong here? Yeah, I know that." Her heart hammered in her chest.

"You do? Who are you?"

"A friend, but if all goes well, you won't have to see me again. I can't stay."

"Wait, why not…" She'd been on her own, confused, with no one to talk to for… _04:02:02. 04:02:01. 04:02:00. 04:01:59… _for nearly eight hours already, and now that she had someone who seemed to know what was going on, she was going to lose her again? "You can't go."

"Can, and will. But you'll be alright, listen. There will be someone to help you. Several someones, actually. They'll find you, and it might be a little while yet before they show up, but they will come, I promise you. Until then, you need to be brave, you need to stay quiet, and most importantly you need to notice and not be noticed. Understand?"

"I… yes."

"Do you?"

"No… not really," Mercedes admitted. "What's this?" she held up her wrist to show the cuff, the clock. The woman blinked, reaching to it for a moment, then deciding against it.

"All in time," she nodded. "You go back in now, and do as you're told. Don't be the hero, Mercedes."

She didn't know what else to do. She reached for the door, opened it and looked back inside. She looked over her shoulder to the woman, but she wasn't there anymore. Mercedes looked all around the alleyway, and there was no one. She could not have gone, but then… Had she even been there at all?

Deciding at the very least that the woman's advice had not been imaginary, she hurried back inside, to her spot, acting like she was exactly where she belonged, while on the inside she was trembling nervously.

Someone was coming. Someone would help her. She was all for being proactive, but in this place, she just didn't know how. But if someone was coming, then that was a good thing, wasn't it? That meant maybe she'd get answers, and she could go home. So long as they were here, then everything might be alright.

She'd just watched the clock on her wrist tick under the one hour mark when there'd been activity in the assembly hall. The man who'd first found her was back, as were others dressed like him, and all the youths in green were rising, forming into a column to walk out again, and Mercedes felt her panic revive. If they left, would her help still come?

Savelyn had awakened, as optimistic as ever, and Mercedes didn't leave her side as they went once more out to where she'd first woken, this time further. She hadn't been wrong, she really had seen a spaceship, or what looked like it, and now they were all being taken to board it. Her legs raged with the urge to run.

"I can't go in there…" she muttered to herself.

"Do you get nauseous? I think they have an injection for that, they can sedate you for the time of the trip," Savelyn offered.

"I don't want that," Mercedes shook her head. She took a breath. "I don't have a ticket." Savelyn frowned, confused.

"But you must have gotten it, when you had your birthday, when you turned sixteen."

"I'm seventeen," she replied, out of habit. This made Savelyn's eyes widen. They were gray.

"Then how come you're here? Were you ill last year? You didn't skip out, did you? You can't let them find out if you did, that's punishable by…"

"Make lines, Day shifts to the left, Night shifts to the right!" the guard man hollered. Mercedes panicked, again. Savelyn had been her only help thus far, and they were about to be separated.

"I'll see you later," the blue haired girl told her as they split off, but her face said 'be careful.'

Mercedes was nudged into the Day lines, and she nearly toppled into the boy with the carrot orange hair. "Sorry," she told him.

"It's alright," he told her. "I'm nervous, too."

"I didn't say I was…"

"You look it," he told her in a compassionate way that put her at ease.

That ease only lasted so long. They were being escorted through the ship, into a cabin that reminded her of an airplane, with all its seats in rows, but those seats looked more like the kind on amusement park rides where they had to strap you into the chairs before you got flung about. It was all moving too fast, and the next thing she knew, she was strapped into a seat, between a girl with lime green hair and another with lavender colored pigtails.

By the time all the shuffling and buckling was done, she had finally looked at the clock on her wrist again. She froze. _0:00:20. 0:00:19. 0:00: 18… _What would happen when it hit zero? Would she be so lucky that it would take her home again, just like that? _0:00:12. 0:00:11. 0:00.10._ What if it did something else? What if it exploded? What if… _0:00:05. 0:00:04._

"Attention, passengers," a voice flooded the room. "Prepare for takeoff…"

_0:00:02. 0:00:01._

Mercedes shut her eyes.

_0:00:00._

_TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)_


	8. Who I Was

**"The Mistaken M. Jones"**

**8. Who I Was**

_March 2012 – Lima, Ohio_

This could be construed as a bad idea, and Sugar knew it. She knew it, she ignored it, she went for it. The way she saw it, she wasn't breaking any rule. Long ago, on those very last moments where she had still been Padra, the Doctor had told her as explicitly as could be, that her safety hinged on her ability to stay hidden, and that meant that she could tell no one who she had been or where she came from. From the moment she was handed over to her new family, Padra no longer existed, only Sugar Motta.

But Miss Harrison… Gemma… she was the Doctor's companion. She knew him… her… She was part of the team, and she knew all these things, about space and time travel and aliens and all those things. And going by the fact of their one interaction when she'd been little, she knew who Sugar really was. By all those counts, if there was anyone she could speak the truth to, it was the fake substitute.

The reasoning went that, if she pointed out to her that she knew exactly who she was, then maybe, just maybe, it would convince Gemma to tell them what was going on.

She knew that Artie wouldn't approve. For some reason, he was hell bent on them not disturbing Gemma, and to some point she guessed she understood why that was. But even then, some part of her felt that this was something that needed to be done. The Doctor had saved her life once, made sure she had a shot at a future. It was the least she could do, if something was happening in her school, for her to help him, help his companion… her companion… Whenever she thought of the one Doctor who was a woman, it had a combined effect of making her head hurt at the possibility, and making her imagine the Doctor, her Doctor, dressed as a woman, and that was in itself the funniest and most disturbing thing.

Now then, this was all she had to do. She would find Gemma… Miss Harrison… and she would find some reason to get her alone. She could think of plenty of reasons and they would all be absolutely logic. After that, she could say what she had to say, hoping the fake teacher would do the right thing.

"Miss Harrison!" she called out from down the hall, before the woman could go into the teachers' lounge. She watched her stop and turn at the sound of the name, and then her eyes fixed on Sugar, following her approach. "Can I talk to you for a minute?" she asked.

"Can it wait? I have a…"

"It can't," Sugar shook her head. Gemma looked to be considering her options.

"Right, alright, so what's the…"

"Oh, no, not here. In private," Sugar specified. For a moment, she thought maybe the woman was on to her and wouldn't follow, but she did, so they went into the choir room, which was empty, and Sugar shut the doors.

"Is everything okay? Did something happen to you?" Her voice had grown concerned, and Sugar shook her head.

"It's nothing like that," she promised.

"So what is it then?" Gemma asked, and Sugar took a breath.

"I remembered something the other day, something from when I was little," Sugar started, and she tried not to stare too hard at the substitute, but she just couldn't help wondering, if maybe she would figure out what she was getting at.

"What did you remember?" Gemma asked, and Sugar smiled.

"You. I remembered meeting you."

"Me?" Gemma chuckled. "When you were little? I don't think that I…"

"It was on the Great Jade Moon, in the inn, and you came. You had a robe or something, and it had a hood. And you sat with me and you were nice, and you told me things, things I'd need to know."

"The Great Jade… Sugar, are you feeling okay?" Gemma asked, reaching up her hand like she would feel for her temperature.

"I told you, remember? You liked my name, and I told you how it was a kind of sugar. That's how I figured it out, what to call myself when I'd be with my new family. You said your name was Gemma."

"Wait, you've been talking to Artie Abrams, haven't you?" Gemma frowned, looking at her. For a moment, Sugar felt all her hopes fulfilled.

"Yes, that's right," she beamed. "He told us all about you, that's how I remembered."

"Sugar, you can't go believing those stories. Artie is very creative, but there isn't…"

"I'm not making it up!" Sugar hadn't realized she could get so frustrated so fast. But she was standing in front of the woman, looking into her eyes, and nothing was going through. Gemma just stood there, and she acted like none of what Sugar said was true. "We know who you are, and we know you're here for a reason, so why won't you tell us?"

"Maybe you need to go home for the rest of the day, get some rest…"

"I don't need rest, I just need to talk to someone, and you're the only one I've got around here. You have no idea what it's like, what I've been through. My parents died, and I barely had time to mourn them, because I had to become someone else, in a strange place, where I couldn't tell anyone about what I'd seen, or what I was feeling. I have to keep being happy, silly Sugar, because If I'm ever who I used to be, there are people who might want to hurt me? It's not fair," she felt herself just toes off the edge, right on the verge of falling headlong into despair.

Gemma looked at her, quiet, and then she moved forward and hugged her. Sugar didn't even care anymore, and she hugged her back, her cheeks splashed with tears. She hadn't been so open with anyone, not like this, for so long. And now that it had happened… Gemma pulled back, looked into her eyes with a sad smile.

"I wish I could be who you need me to be, Sugar." She wanted to push her away, but she didn't have the will to do it. So instead she stood there, let the woman cup her cheek with her hand. "But you know, if you do need to talk to someone, my door's always open. I'll be here the rest of the year, you know?" She was trying to be encouraging.

All Sugar felt though was a new despair. She was right where she'd started, and Gemma was still denying being anything more than the substitute teacher. Sugar had tried to help, and she'd failed.

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	9. The New Now

**"The Mistaken M. Jones"**

**9. The New Now**

_Earth, in the year 4514_

The feeling had hit her the moment the clock had turn to zeroes, and if she'd hoped that somehow she would get used to it with time, then she was sorely disappointed. When everything stopped, just as before, she crumpled to her knees, dizzy and confused, breathing hard as she waited for the world to stop spinning. It took several seconds for her to realize a few things. When those seconds had passed, she began to feel the breeze, the warmth of the sun and the light that came with it, and then she knew she wasn't on that ship anymore. She was on solid ground and, more than that, she was back where she had started, the exact same place. She remembered what had happened the last time, and somewhere in her confusion she had the presence of mind to pick herself up and stagger off somewhere so she could hide.

She still wore the uniform she had been forced to change into, and the only thing she could think to do at the moment was to find new clothes, so she wouldn't be caught in this. She had a feeling that would only get her in trouble. As she snuck around, as best she could, she did manage to notice a few things. For one, the streets were busy, much in the same way they had been when she'd first come to this place. There were young people milling about, wearing the uniforms. If she got caught up with them, she'd just end up forced back to that ship, and she still had no ticket.

She must have sat there, in her hiding place, for what felt like an eternity. That might have been exaggerating, but then she looked at the timer on the cuff. _6:50:23. 6:50:22. 6:50:21…_ Five hours gone already, and she was nowhere closer to a way out.

"… to say? The truth? How many times have we gone to…" a man's voice was briefly within earshot of her, and it got her attention. She looked up, seeing a small group had moved past her hiding place. She was wondering what they were up to, when one of them, a young man with short hair in three shades of violet, looked over his shoulder and spotted her. She gasped and dove back into hiding, hoping against all hope that he hadn't…

"What are you doing back there?" a voice asked, and she cringed. That was it, she was done for.

"You can't send me back there, you don't understand, I don't belong here. Please…" When she heard nothing, she thought maybe he'd gone away. She dared a look, but he was very much still there. He was looking at her and she thought that might have been compassion.

"Come with me," he said.

"I'm not going anywhere with you, you'll just turn me in."

"Why would I ever do a thing like that?" he frowned. "I have clothes, back at my house. One of my sisters was about your size, we might have something for you." She hesitated. What if this was a trap? He didn't look threatening at all, what if… _The woman said that help was on the way. Did she mean him?_ With a deep breath, she'd stood and given him a nod. "This way."

So she followed him, and he took her to his home, careful to remain out of sight. As they went, Mercedes couldn't help but notice the way he limped. He couldn't have been much older than her, maybe twenty, or twenty-one. She wondered what had happened to him, but she didn't dare to ask. Once inside the house, he'd taken her up to a room and showed her the cupboard where his sister's clothes were. He stepped out and she looked through the selection of clothes until she found something good. He was right about the size, and they fit near perfectly, if only a little loose on her.

"Better," he declared when she rejoined him. "What's your name?"

"Mercedes… Mercedes Jones," she replied. She couldn't lie to him.

"My name is Merit Reeslin," he smiled at her.

"Why are you helping me?" she asked before she could stop herself.

"Why shouldn't I?" he asked back.

"Is it because… your sister? When you talked about her before, you used past tense like…"

"Oh, she's not dead," he was quick to answer, and she was glad for that. "She's about halfway through her years now," he said, like she would understand what that meant. The only thing she saw was doubt, flashing across his face.

"What's wrong?" she asked him, but he had already moved into what Mercedes guessed would be the kitchen.

"Would you like something to drink?" he asked.

"Sure," she told him, moving further into the room, from out of his sister's. She'd been ignoring how hungry she felt, which had been easy at first, with everything that was happening around her, but now she was starting to calm down, and she was becoming ever more aware of the fact that she hadn't eaten in close to a day. "Is it alright… I mean, could I…"

"Do you want something to eat, too?" he guessed, looking back at her. She nodded. "Of course," he went back in, and she let out a breath, walking around the room to keep herself distracted as she waited.

As she went, she saw pictures on the wall, and one caught her eye in particular. On it, two boys, no more than ten, sat side by side, smiling to the camera. One would have to be Merit, still with the three shades of violet, which made Mercedes wonder if these people were born with the brightly colored hair or if they started coloring it so very young. The other had that recognizable carrot orange hair, and staring properly at his face. She could say without a doubt that it was the same one, the same boy who'd sat next to her on the ship.

"Hey, I think I know him," she pointed at the picture. Merit's face appeared from out of the kitchen a moment later, and when he saw what she was looking out, he was quiet for a beat.

"That's Lenton."

"Is he your brother?"

"Friend," Merit corrected. "I was supposed to leave with him for the years, but because of my leg I was exempted, so he went and I stayed." There was a pause. "He should have been back by now."

"Back?" she asked, and that was when it all started to feel like she'd missed the most glaring thing. He had just left, but they were talking about years.

"Five years, to the day. The ship came, like it does every year, to take the new ones, but it didn't bring back those whose years were up. We tried to find out why but no one would say and…"

There was a knock at the door, and just as Mercedes was dealing with the fact that five years had apparently gone by, suddenly there was a different panic in her. What if someone knew she was here, and now they were trying to take her to that ship again? She made to hide, and Merit didn't stop her. He went on to answer, with the same slow shuffle as he always had. When the door opened, Mercedes caught on to two things. The first was a strange sort of dinging noise, and the second was the beholder of the dinging object, a tall man with a long coat and suit, with a girl at his side. _6:12:38. 6:12:37. 6:12:36…_

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	10. A Distress Call

**"The Mistaken M. Jones"**

**10. A Distress Call**

_A few moments earlier - Earth, in the year 15603_

They had not come to this museum by choice. Only the Doctor had brought Martha here so she might witness something he'd been meaning to show to one of his companions for a good half dozen regenerations, and then… then, the shimmer had happened. For a moment he was certain he'd seen her, the one who'd been eluding him for all this time, and some part of his brain had decided the best thing to do would be to chase after her. He'd gotten hold of Martha's hand, making sure she would both keep up with him and not get lost, and she did her best not to trip along the way. It was one thing to follow him when she had a general idea of where he was headed; it was another thing entirely when she had absolutely no idea.

They'd barged right into the museum, through a door, up three flights of stairs, through another door, under a curtain, down an aisle, and then… shimmer. She was gone. The Doctor stopped, letting go of Martha's hand as they both took a moment to catch their breaths.

"Have you gone… completely… mental?" Martha asked, panting.

"Me? Mental? Martha, I don't know what could have possibly… given you…" he had been staring at her, frowning, when his focus shifted from her to the display behind her. "Oh, what's this?" he asked no one in particular, moving around the frowning girl and pulling his glasses on.

"No, yeah, I'm fine, it's alright, thank you, Doctor," she intoned, annoyed.

"Don't mention it," he nodded to himself. "Here, have a look," he motioned behind himself. Martha sighed, turning to see what he was looking at.

"… mandatory five-year term of service, to begin in each boy and girl's sixteenth year and end on his or her twenty-first," she read off a panel.

"Used to be they'd be older, but they decided it'd be easier this way, get it done while they're young and strong, and when they get back they have their whole life ahead of them.

"This one doesn't look happy," Martha pointed to what she believed to have been a photograph. But then her gesture had acted to activate the recorded footage instead.

"_Please! There was a mistake! It's not me! I don't belong here!"_

The girl on the screen couldn't have been more than sixteen or seventeen years old, and the man pulling her by the arm didn't seem too concerned as to whether or not she wanted to join the others.

"Martha…" the Doctor took a step forward. "Do you see it, too?"

"See what?" she asked, looking closer, just as he did. He stared at her with a frown, as though he expected her to have seen it, too. For sure, the more she looked at the girl on the screen, the more it felt like there was a glaring problem with what she… "It's her clothes…" she finally gasped. She didn't know that they would be contemporaries, but she did not look at all like she would have gotten her clothes anywhere near where everyone else in the recording had gotten them. "She's not from there… from then," she stated.

"No, she most certainly is not," the Doctor concurred, and Martha thought he might have sniffed the screen. "Two-thousand and twelve, maybe?"

"Now you're just showing off," she shook her head, trying not to chuckle.

"Oh, Martha, if only it were that simple," he started back the way they'd come, the shimmer girl completely forgotten. She followed after him, knowing he would not stop to make sure she was.

"So what do you think happened to her?" she still asked.

"I don't know," he answered, and said no more.

"Is that all you have to say? 'I don't know,'" she imitated him, which got her a curious frown. They were all the way out of the museum before it dawned on her they were headed back for the TARDIS, and she hoped neither she nor the Doctor would bring it up.

Even as they made their way to the ship, they heard something off in the distance, and by the sound the Doctor made, Martha guessed whatever it was he'd originally brought her to see happen had just happened and they'd missed it.

"The display said the year was 4509," Martha recalled as they walked through the double doors and into the bigger-on-the-inside ship.

"It did," the Doctor nodded, moving about the controls. "But we're not going there."

"We're not?"

"No, she's already gone by now," the Doctor went on.

"How do you figure…"

"Didn't you read what it said? She disappeared."

"Right, because you got her out," Martha guessed.

"Martha, when I say 'disappeared,' in this case, I do mean she literally disappeared, vanished, out of thin air. It was witnessed." She stopped for a moment, to think back about what they'd seen. It wasn't usually the case that it took her so long to catch on, and she could blame it all she wanted on how fast it had all happened, but she knew there was something else, something she'd seen. When her hand absently went to her wrist, she caught the Doctor smiling, and so she looked down, focusing on the recording, on the girl's arms…

"She had something, like a bracelet or a watch, or…" This was not some old time camera thing, the details had been clear. She had seen the numbers, on the inside of the cuff. "What is that thing?"

"I don't know, let's find out," he flipped a lever, and they came to an abrupt stop, sending them both to the ground. "Right," he breathed. "Five years later, ought to do it," he turned from being on his back, so he could go and pull a panel off the ground. He rummaged along until he found what he'd needed. He scrambled out of the TARDIS, Martha trailing behind. His machine went ding. "This way…"

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	11. Martha & Mercedes

**"The Mistaken M. Jones"**

**11. Martha & Mercedes**

_Earth, in the year 4514_

Mercedes waited, wondering what Merit would tell the pair who'd come knocking at his door. When he let them into the house, she hesitated. Were they here to help? The woman who'd come to her before had said there would be several people there to help her, so maybe those were allies as much as Merit was.

"It's alright," the violet haired man called out. It took her a couple seconds more, but finally she stepped back out so they might see her.

"Hello," the tall man gave her a smile. "I'm the Doctor," he spoke, and for a second she thought they'd sent a psychiatrist after her, until it dawned on her that, if that was the case, then they had sent her the most unlikely one. "And you are…"

"Mercedes Jones," she volunteered her name, which seemed to get the attention of the second visitor.

"Mercedes Jones," the Doctor repeated, balancing on his heels for a moment as he nodded to his companion. "Meet Martha Jones. I don't imagine the two of you are related somehow?"

And then Mercedes understood.

"It's you!" she pointed to Martha. "You're the one he was looking for, not me!"

"Who was looking for me?" Mercedes' finger trailed over to the tall man.

"Then you must be the Time Lord."

"Someone's done their homework," the Doctor nodded.

"What's a Time Lord?" she went on to ask. Before he could try and explain anything, Martha had her own questions.

"How do you know all this?"

"I was walking, in the park, and then something happened…" She didn't want to say it. She didn't want them to think she was crazy, not when she finally thought she might be on the right track for heading home. But did she have a choice?

"What was it?" Martha asked.

"A man, he just… appeared, out of nowhere."

"Merit, was it?" the Doctor suddenly cut her off. "I think something's burning," he pointed to the kitchen, and the young man startled, hurrying as much as his leg would allow. "Go on," he turned to Mercedes again. She let out a breath.

"He looked hurt, he was… hurt, dying. When he saw me, he was anxious, like he'd been looking for me. He said, 'Jones, it's you, I found you…'" She'd never forget the words, she knew. That moment in the park would be etched into her memories forever. Martha felt a chill as she listened on. "Someone sent him looking for… for you," she corrected herself, now looking at the second M. Jones. "Said that you knew the Time Lord, and you could help. Then he put this on me," she held up her wrist, showing the cuff. "He said there wasn't much time and that I had to help, and then…" she looked down for a moment.

"He died," the Doctor guessed, and she nodded.

"Then the seconds ran out," she showed the cuff again, and I got taken here, five years ago. It happened again, when the time ran out, it took me here, now."

"Let me see?" the Doctor asked, and she held out her arm, while Merit came up with a tray.

"Just managed to save it," he announced, putting the tray in her lap. She didn't hesitate to grab the fork and start eating, while the Doctor was examining the cuff.

"Well that is just…" he fished out his sonic screwdriver, as he went on looking the silver thing over. "Remarkable, and I don't just say that." Martha came closer, peering over his shoulder. It was hard to see what he saw, though that was generally the case. The cuff itself looked sort of uniform. She couldn't even see where it opened, and there was no way it was slipped past Mercedes' hand. The only thing that stood out was the clock, but even as the numbers counted down, it was as though each digit was carved into the metal, like they were part of it, even as they changed by the second. "How much time does it last?"

"I don't…" Mercedes shook her head, lost.

"When you first arrive, what does it say?" he clarified.

"Twelve hours," she told him before taking another bite. She wasn't even all that sure of what it was she was eating, all she knew was that it tasted great, and she was starving. "What's that thing?" she asked of the small sort of tube with the light at the end. It was making sounds as he pointed it at the cuff.

Then something strange happened. There was a slight spark, and they all startled and jumped back for a few seconds before staring back at the cuff.

_0:12:23. 0:12:22. 0:12.21…_

"What did you do?" Mercedes panicked.

"Well… that's unfortunate," he stuck the sonic back in his pocket. "But it's alright, I got what I needed to know, I'll just have to… Right, take this," he snatched the tray and gave it back to Merit.

"Hey, I wasn't…" Mercedes started complaining, but then the Doctor had her face lodged between his hands, and she was made to look into his eyes. "What are you doing?"

"Shh, leaving a message," he shut his eyes.

"A message?"

"More than a message," he amended, "A way to find you, and proof in case you need it."

"I don't…"

"Hush," he begged. "You'll be alright." When he let go, he sighed. "That's it then. Might as well keep eating while we wait."

Mercedes had been sure, with the Doctor's arrival, and this Martha girl, too, that everything that was happening to her would suddenly be made clearer. Instead, it was only getting more complicated. They'd given her back the food though, and she was still famished, so she did as she was told, every so often staring at the cuff on her wrist, like she was rushing against the clock on a test and the teacher was about to rip the paper from under her pencil.

"Doctor?" she asked, when she saw there was under twenty seconds to go.

"I'll get you home, I promise, but you'll need to trust your gut more than your eyes. You'll see me again, but I won't look the same, not even close."

"I don't unders…"

"You will," he nodded, getting hold of the tray as… _0:00:02. 0:00:01. 0:00:00._ She disappeared, right from under the tray, leaving the Doctor, Martha, and Merit, staring at the empty seat. "Right, on we go," the Doctor gave Merit the tray before ushering Martha out toward the door.

"Do you know where she's gone?" Martha asked.

"I do. But it's not ours to deal with."

"It's not?"

"No. Our part's done," he told her as they left Merit's house. "So, now our outing was ruined, I believe the answer to that disappointment might be a short tour through revolutionary France…"

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	12. Evening Out

**"The Mistaken M. Jones"**

**12. Evening Out**

_March 2012 – Lima, Ohio_

More often than not, if she could help it, she would jump back to a darkened room. She generally found it easier than to jump into a well lit room. This time around, she had left from a broom closet at McKinley and she had returned there as well. Only when she opened the door, it was seconds before she realized she had made a terrible mistake. The halls were deserted, and when she found a clock to look at, she knew why: she'd returned much later than intended. The school day was done… and she was going to be late.

She made it back to her apartment as fast as she could, quickly dropping her bag with the robe and the vortex manipulator and the rest of her travelling tools on to her bed before stripping off and jumping in the shower. She had just shut off the water when she heard the knock at her door, and she cursed under her breath. She must have left a trail of water all the way across her floor, only managing to throw a robe on before she could open the door.

Walter stood there, and she was so surprised at her own gladness, not to mention the way he looked, that she forgot for a moment what she must have looked like, until she saw the way he tried not to stare.

"Walter, hey, I… I'm so sorry, I got home late, I haven't…"

"Don't worry about it, I can just wait out here and…"

"No, please, come in," she insisted, so he did. "I just need a few minutes to get ready and then we're all set," she promised, taking the advantage of his averting his eyes to quickly scoop up her discarded clothes, and to nudge her bag to the ground between the foot of the bed and the wall. It was not the most ideal hiding place, but for the time being it would have to do. "Wait here," she told him, grabbing the clothes she'd laid out the night before, grabbing a few other things, and returning into the steamy bathroom. For a minute or so, neither of them spoke, but then Walter's voice reached through the door.

"So, light reader?" he asked, and she chuckled.

"My, uh… my sister works in publishing, she… gets good deals," she pieced the lie together and was glad he couldn't see the frown on her face. She was dressed now, and her hair would take too long to dry, so she was working to untangle it before tying it into a bun, until she heard the unmistakable sound of several books tumbling to the ground.

"Sorry!" Walter called from the other room.

"Don't worry about it!" she replied. In her head, she could see which pile must have toppled. She'd been meaning to rearrange it, having seen in waver so perilously she half expected it to bury her in her…

A horrible thought slashed through her mind, and her hair fell back around her face as she let it go and peered through the door, wondering if any of those books might have fallen in less obvious places… like between her bed and the wall, for instance. And right there, when she opened the door, she found him, Walter, crouching to fish into the small space… and then there was a small clunk, as the strap slipped from the top of the bag, at Walter's feet.

"Really, it's no bother, I'll put everything back later," she told him, hoping somehow it would keep him from doing exactly what he was about to do, which was to pick up the vortex manipulator.

"What's this?" he asked, curious as he stood back up.

"It's… a watch," she said the first thing she could think of, inwardly kicking herself for not hiding it better than this. She should have just made him wait in the hall, but she'd been too anxious and now this was what she got.

"Is it?" he turned it about, not looking convinced. She knew it must have been a very intriguing object for anyone to see, and the first time she'd held it and looked at it, she had felt that curiosity, too. But Walter didn't belong to that world, and if she didn't find a way to get it away from him…

"Sort of a… uh… pager, too," she was fishing for something to say without looking so nervous and desperate. Walter looked at her.

"A pager?" he laughed. "Do they still make those?" he asked, while she reached to take it from him.

"Well it's here, so they must do," she nodded.

Her haste would undo her. She'd made to grab it, but Walter was still holding it, and she had no idea who had done what, but the next thing she knew, the manipulator was live, and they froze to the spot, as they were taken from her apartment…

… and they reappeared on a dusty side street, the same one she'd been in not an hour before, when she'd transported herself back to McKinley, hours too late.

In shock, Walter had finally let go of the strap, and he looked ready to stumble out of shock, so she kept hold of his arm.

"Hey, you're alright," she told him. He was looking around.

"What just… Where are we?" If anyone found them, they would have so many more problems. So she strapped the vortex manipulator back on to her arm, which she hooked around his, and she tapped at the panel as fast as she could.

"Hold on tight," she told him, and then they were being pulled away again.

They reappeared in her apartment, and as soon as he saw this, he let go of her sat hard in the nearest chair he found. Gemma's heart was ramming hard against her chest. This was bad, this was not supposed to happen… What would the Doctor say? Maybe they could make him forget…

"What… What was that?" he asked, still spooked. He was looking up at her, and she didn't know what to make of his face. "Who are you?"

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	13. Third Time Round

**"The Mistaken M. Jones"**

**13. Third Time Round**

_Earth, in the year 4519_

When she 'landed' this time, Mercedes found her bearings much faster than she'd ever done before. She wasn't as lost as she'd been, still confused, yes, though not nearly as much as she could be. She landed, right where she'd done it the other two times, and once she could stand, she could walk away and find her hiding place. This wasn't nearly as hard as the last time, except maybe for the fact that she had a feeling… something was different… some things…

Both times she'd been thrown into this place before, there was a whole crowd of people nearby, waiting and watching as the those boys and girls were themselves waiting, to board the ship that loomed in the near distance. The ship was still there, and so were the boys and girls, but there was no one else, almost like they were not allowed.

As much as she had a slightly better grasp on her surroundings, after nearly a whole day of this, there was still plenty to surprise her. For instance, while her hunger had been getting greater and greater as the hours passed, she was feeling no exhaustion, like every jump left her refreshed after a good night's rest. All in all, it was only a minor detail, but it still needed to be acknowledged.

At least this time, now that she'd recovered from the jump, she had a vague idea of what to do, one ace in her pocket: she would find the one friend she knew she had, the man with the violet hair. She headed to the house where she'd been, just a few minutes ago.

As she went, she saw more and more indicators that this place had changed, in however much time had gone by since her last jump. Something about these streets felt a bit… duller, like it had lost some of its color, its brightness.

The Doctor had told her she'd find him again, but he wouldn't look like himself. She still had no idea what this meant, but it left her to wonder. How would she know it was him? Then there was this thing with the message. She remembered when he'd put it there, in her head. The thought alone that there might be something stuck in her head like some kind of supernatural post-it note was almost giving her the chills, and not in a good way. She didn't know what this message said. She knew it was there, had felt it burrowing its way into her thoughts, but it was like there was a lock, and she didn't have the key, so she couldn't tell what it was. It had to be for him, didn't it? For the Doctor, the one she had to find?

She made it to Merit's house, and if she'd arrived even a minute later, things might have gone a lot worse.

When he opened the door, she was surprised. He had clearly aged some, maybe five years or more. His hair was just the same color as it had always been, although now it had grown longer, reaching just below his shoulders. His face was both paler and leaner, the way it might be if he spent much of his time in isolated worry. When he saw her there, still in his sister's clothes, he was both shocked and not shocked at all, like he'd been told she would come, but he hadn't believed she really would until she did.

"Come in," he said as way of greeting, pulling her through the door before shutting it and locking it again.

"How long…"

"Five years, to the day," he confirmed what she'd believed.

"Do you know where the Doctor…"

Before she could go on or he could answer, there was a loud rap at the door. Merit brought her into the kitchen, made her crouch, and signalled that she should remain silent, while he went and answered the door.

"Hello, Merit," a man's voice reached her ears, and Mercedes had to cover her mouth not to react. She recognized that voice, it was the guard, the one who'd pushed and pulled her around, when she first got there. What would happen if he saw her? Would he recognize her? She looked exactly the same.

"What do you want?" Merit asked.

"May we come in?" There was no answer, but when Mercedes heard the footsteps, the door shutting, she knew Merit had let them into his home.

"What do…" he started to ask the same question again, but he was interrupted.

"I hope we're not interrupting anything, are we?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You don't?" the guard almost sounded like he was laughing. She wasn't about to check. "Then you're not expecting any kind of… communication?"

"A communication from…" Merit's voice lingered, as though he expected the guard to fill in the blank.

"Lenton Daen." There was a tense silence. "What's the matter? The two of you were friends, weren't you? He went and did his years, and you had to stay because of that leg of yours."

"I know," Merit sounded like it was taking him every scrap of self-control not to respond exactly the way the guard was waiting for him to respond. "But I haven't seen or heard from him in a long time, so why should I be expecting anything different?"

"You tell us. It so happens that we intercepted a message, from the asteroid, from him, for you. It bears a genetic key, so we can't activate it, but there are ways of working around that."

"I don't think so."

"Don't you want to see what he has to say?"

"Ten years he's been gone, and that's five too many. None of you have ever told us why, and anyone who's tried to find out has either been locked up or killed. So either get out of my house or kill me, right here, right now, because I've got nothing else to say to you."

Hidden off in the kitchen, Mercedes had her eyes shut tight. _Doctor, where are you? Doctor, please come. Do something._

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	14. Beacon

**"The Mistaken M. Jones"**

**14. Beacon**

_London, 2006_

Their last trip had been hard on Rose, he could tell. So, to help her feel better, he had taken her back home to see her mother. He'd been back in the TARDIS, tending to a few issues he'd noticed recently. It was something to do, which was what he needed. Rose might have accused him of hiding from Jackie, and he would have put an end to that as utter nonsense. If he had to run from everyone who'd ever slapped him in the face, he would run out of places to go.

He was outside, looking around the wooden exterior of his ship for any scrapes and bumps, when Rose came to him.

"Right, then, Doctor, onwards?" she asked.

"All done?" he asked back, as though to say 'so soon?'

"You know as well as I do, the longer I stay, the harder it will be for her to let me go," she shrugged. "It's better for both of us." He wouldn't inquire any further, though there was plenty for him to say, right there on her face. In the time he'd known Rose Tyler, he'd gotten a pretty good idea of when to push and when to back away.

"Said your goodbyes?" he asked, and she nodded. So he opened the TARDIS door for her, and she slipped in with a smile. He followed, and he shut the door.

The moment he'd done this, the ship had given a great quake, and they were off.

"What's happening, where's it going?" Rose grabbed on to the nearest railing to hoist herself back up.

"I don't know," the Doctor admitted, speeding to the controls. "What's the matter with you?" he asked the ship, which only carried on its way. He pulled up to the screen, checking the destination they were obviously being pulled to.

"Is someone trying to capture you?" Rose guessed.

"I don't think so," the Doctor shook his head.

"Then why is the TARDIS…"

"Let me think," he told her, still looking around, taking it all in.

There were so many possibilities as to why they had suddenly been spirited away, and the best way he knew to figure out which one was the correct one was to work by process of elimination. There were plenty of reasons for this to be nefarious activity, just like it could be something else entirely, not at all ill willed. So far, he hadn't categorically eliminated one side or the other. Sometimes, it could be a bit of both.

The first piece of semi good news was that he didn't believe the TARDIS was being forced away. Whatever was happening, she was responding to something, as though it answered a call. He'd been in and out of the ship ever since they'd landed in London, but it wasn't until they were both inside and ready to go that it had gone. So was it that Rose was a part of it, or was it rather that whatever the TARDIS was responding to, she had waited until the Doctor was ready to go, which included Rose.

And then they'd landed.

For a moment, neither of them moved. Rose looked to the door and then to him, but he shook his head: not yet.

"Where are we?" she asked.

"Still on Earth," he quickly established.

"Fine, then when are we?" He answered this quickly, too.

"The year 4519."

Now that they'd stopped, other things became clearer. Something, or more likely someone, was here, and it had pulled them from where they were, so that they could meet. Still not knowing whether this thing or person wanted him for good reasons, he had to go forth with caution.

"Stay close to me," he told Rose, looking her square in the eye so that she might grasp this was not time to deviate in any way.

"I know," she told him.

They stepped out of the TARDIS, and with his sonic, he searched out this beacon. It beeped, slow, deliberate… The Doctor moved to the left, and the rhythm was the same. He moved right, and it sped up.

"This way."

He followed the sound, let it guide him, and eventually he and Rose found themselves in front of a house. The Doctor peered through the window, just low enough that he could see through it. Inside, he saw two things. He saw a young man with hair in three shades of violet, surrounded by a trio of severe looking men. And on the other side, he didn't so much see as he felt, thanks to his sonic, his beacon, kept out of sight, as though maybe it… he or she… was hiding. If he had to guess who he or she was hiding from…

"If I tell you to run…" he asked Rose.

"I'll run," she replied.

They went up to the door, and the Doctor knocked. He could hear the voices inside, and when he'd knocked, the voices had stopped. There was a drawn out silence, and then the door opened. It was the young man.

"Yes?" he asked the stranger.

"You wouldn't happen to be having an unpleasant conversation? I may be of some assistance."

Merit didn't know what convinced him to do this, but he stepped aside and let the two strangers, the man and the girl, walk in and join the tense meeting in his sitting room.

"Sorry to interrupt…" the Doctor started, ready to pull together all aspects of cleverness. But the other men looked at one another, and then without a word, they started to leave. Only one of them stopped to say anything, and he directed those words to the violet haired man.

"We'll be back, unless you change your mind." And now he left with his colleagues. After he'd gone, there was a moment of silence before Merit looked to the new visitors.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" he asked.

"I'm the Doctor, this is my friend, Rose Tyler, we…"

"Doctor?" a new voice joined them, and the Doctor and Rose turned to find a young girl standing just outside the kitchen. She was staring at the Doctor, confused but relieved. "Is that really you?"

"In the flesh. And you are?"

"My name is Mercedes Jones. I have a message for you."

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	15. What Is Known

**"The Mistaken M. Jones"**

**15. What Is Known**

_Earth, in the year 4519_

At this time in her adventures with the Doctor, Rose Tyler still had no idea in the least that, should her Time Lord friend find himself on death's door, he might have the option to look it in the face and say 'no thanks,' run away, and become a brand new person. It was not meant for her to know it just yet, for before the young girl could tell her tale, Rose would notice Merit was in need of assistance and offer to help him, which would take them both out of the room while Mercedes spoke.

"A message," the Doctor looked at her. "And who gave it to you?" he asked. Mercedes hesitated. Here she'd thought she was finally starting to get a grip on this place she'd been brought to, and now here she was, standing in front of a man she had never seen in her life and being brought to the realization that he was the same man she had met briefly before ending up on this adventure… but with a new face. "Well go on, then," the Doctor encouraged her. "A message isn't much of a message if the messenger doesn't deliver. Where is it?"

"It's… here," she pointed to her head with a trembling finger. "I think. The man, he put it there… Said his name was the Doctor, too, but he didn't look…" The Doctor's face changed, understanding, more than she did. Because if he didn't remember meeting her before, then in all likelihood that meant…

"Right, hold still, this won't hurt," he told her, moving to stand before her. He put his hands on either side of his face, just like the other man had done. She wanted to just look at his face, to try and see what was going on in there while he experienced this message, but in two seconds she felt compelled to close her eyes, too, and she did. When he let go, she looked back up at him. He was still staring at her, thinking. "So, this other man… He wasn't ginger, was he? I've been thinking I might go for that, next regeneration," he nodded to himself.

"Ginger?" Mercedes was lost.

"Right, never mind that, we have more important things to deal with."

"So he really was you?" she blinked, stunned.

"A future me. It's a long story, and as I've said, we don't have much time," he reached for her arm and looked at the clock. She looked, too. In all her haste, she'd almost forgotten it, and what would no doubt happen when it ran out again. _0:09:20. 0:09:19. 0:09:18..._ "Do you know though, he might have met you first, but now here we are, and I'm the past, so…"

"He knew!" Mercedes blurted out. "He knew he would meet me, and I'd end up here!"

"Thus, the message," the Doctor nodded. He left out the part about how the message also pointed out that this future self of his still had no recollection as to how this all ended, which could mean Mercedes Jones would later cross paths with him once more. The objective then was clear: find out as much as possible, keep the girl safe… "What's been happening here? Those men…"

"Merit has a friend," Mercedes quickly answered, going to the picture she'd seen, hours ago for her, years ago for the violet haired man. "His name is Lenton, he left for… he called it 'his years…'"

"Right, the asteroid," the Doctor nodded.

"He was supposed to be back already, five years ago, but he's not," Mercedes continued, glad to finally have something substantial to share. "I think there's more who haven't come back. And then those guys, they came because Lenton sent a message for Merit, and they're being really weird about it."

"Really… weird," the Doctor repeated the words slowly, as though they amused him.

"Something else, too," Mercedes said. To her, it felt like it might have been nothing, but then it also felt like any detail, even seemingly insignificant, might be important. First she started by telling him how she'd ended up here, the man in the park, the cuff. He knew this, thanks to his future self's message. "But the first two times I ended up here, ten years ago, five years ago, it didn't look like it does now. It looks kind of… sad, now," she told him.

"It does, doesn't it?" he looked at her, sort of impressed.

"It's been more than five years." They turned to see Merit had returned, Rose with him. "You just had to know where to look. But in the last few years, the changes have been more overt," he agreed. "When boys and girls reached sixteen, the year when their years were set by law to begin, they would go, gladly, unless they were like me and had anything that would have disqualify them. They went, they did their years, they came back, and that was all."

"What changed?" Rose asked.

"The last group that returned was ten years ago today. The year after that, the sixteens went, yes, but no twenty-ones returned, nor the year after that, nor the year after, again, and again. And no one will tell us why. They'll say the work demanded that the workers be kept, and for a few years this held, but only for so long, and after that people started asking more questions. And if our questions become too… persistent… Even five years ago, the sixteens were starting to show apprehension, but they went. Then the year after that, that's when they started resisting, to the point where guards had to be sent, to collect them and get them on the ship."

"That's why the streets are empty," Mercedes guessed, and Merit nodded. "Why do they think Lenton has been contacting you?"

"You'd have to ask them," Merit insisted, though there was a flicker in his eyes like, even though he had not been in contact with his orange-haired friend, he would have wished very much for it to be true.

"A lot of fuss for one message," Rose turned to the Doctor, and he nodded.

"Then let's make sure the messenger delivers."

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	16. The Asteroid

**"The Mistaken M. Jones"**

**16. The Asteroid**

_Earth, in the year 4519_

Merit Reeslin did not look frightened at all as he followed the Doctor, Rose, and Mercedes. He knew what he was potentially walking into, but he would do it regardless. If anything, Rose and Mercedes were the ones who had more to worry about. Both of them were between the ages of sixteen and twenty-one, which placed them squarely in the realm of having been mandated to sail for the asteroid and having failed to submit. That was why, much to the girls' complaint, they had been sent to the TARDIS to wait and stay out of sight.

"Where are we going?" Mercedes asked, to make sure, after she expected to be brought to a spaceship and instead realized they were making straight for a blue box with a light on top.

"Right here," Rose produced a key, slipped it in door, gave it a twist, and opened the way. When Mercedes saw what was behind her, she wasn't sure if she was stunned or if, after everything else, this only had to make sense.

"How… What…" she stepped through the door, looked up and around. This was no 'little' box, not the way it had looked from outside. Suddenly, she almost didn't care anymore that they'd been left out of the Doctor and Merit going after Lenton's message.

They would be told later how it had all gone down. The hard part would of course involve their getting through the door and convincing the guards to let them see the message on their own. But then the Doctor was there, and he was not so new to this game that he didn't have a few ideas as to how to supersede a person standing in their way. A flash of psychic paper, a few well-placed words, and, when they knew it was the only way left, flat out using everything they had, even if it meant breaking through doors, locking themselves in, and then having to break their way back out…

What mattered was that they at one time found themselves in a room, secure, and with access to a terminal where the Doctor could reach Lenton's message, and Merit could provide the genetic key that would unlock that message.

"Wait," the Doctor told the young man before they could play the message.

"Why?" Merit stared at him, and the Doctor could see just how much he had wanted this, a chance to see his old friend. He might have surrendered himself to the guards, had the Doctor not arrived, on the sole possibility he'd get the long-awaited words.

"Now it's unlocked, we can take it away. Then they won't have it, and you can take all the time you want and watch it, back on my ship." Merit let out a breath, then nodded.

With the message now safely stored in the sonic and extracted from the system here, the Doctor and Merit made their escape. In any other circumstance, Merit might have felt himself a nuisance, slowing the Doctor down because of his leg. But he had something to look forward to, and it gave him the drive he needed to carry on. They made it out of the building and back to the TARDIS, while the guards still believed them cornered inside.

"Thank you for that," Merit smiled to the Doctor as he hobbled on after him.

His day was only made more surprising when he saw the inside of the ship. He'd been as amazed as Mercedes, and even as the Doctor was telling her and Rose about how they'd made it in and out of that building, he could only look around.

"Would you like to be alone?" the Doctor got his attention. On the TARDIS screen, the message was set up and waiting, just as it had been on the terminal.

"No, it's alright," he insisted, moving up to stand in front of the screen. The four of them stood together, and the image began to play.

It was for the most part clear, although at times it would lose focus and flicker before focusing again. They didn't pay much attention to that once the young man appeared on the screen. Merit had an intake of breath as he saw him. He had aged, they both had, but he still had the memory of the sixteen-year-old who'd boarded that ship ten years ago, and this wasn't him anymore. This was still a young man, but older, wearier, haggard…

"Lenton Daen, year 9, day 342. This log goes out to Merit Reeslin, back on Earth, and only him," he spoke, and as he did, Mercedes searched his face, not for the carrot-haired boy she'd met briefly a day ago, but for another. "Merit, I'm putting a gen-lock on this, I don't know why… I guess I'm hoping it will make it to you this time. Any other attempts I've made to contact you, I know for a fact they've turned away, like they've done with everyone here. I can't know that I'll ever get a response back, I know from the last few batches of sixteens that they've been keeping quiet." There was a pause, as though to make sure there was no one there to hear him. "Something needs to happen, fast. There are too many of us now, the asteroid is packed, but they keep bringing the new sixteens every year, and now we're afraid what they'll do when there are too many. The word going around is they'll start executing the older diggers, keep the young ones while they're still strong and healthy." When he stopped this time, they could feel the fear on him; he was afraid for his life. "Merit, if I don't… if I don't make it back, I wanted you to know… I'm sorry," he shook his head. "I'm sorry we never got to have what we always said we'd have after our years, but… please… don't wait for me forever. The last thing I'd want is for you to be alone." The two young men, the one on the screen and the one before it, were both in varying stages of holding back tears, and Rose put a hand to Merit's shoulder while Mercedes reached for his hand. "I'm not giving up," Lenton vowed. "If there's a way, I will see you again, Reeslin," he gave a smirk, even with the shine of tears still in his eyes, and he held up his hand in greeting, in farewell, and the image remained frozen this way.

There was nothing for any of them to say, not for several seconds. When Mercedes looked up again, she saw the Doctor seemed to be working at the controls, and she moved behind him to see what he was doing. At one point, he pulled the screen back to himself, and then it became clearer: he was looking for the asteroid.

It wasn't nearly as easy as he might have believed or hoped. Time went by, as he searched, and Merit remained sat in silence, Rose by his side, wordless but ready to intervene. Mercedes didn't know what else to do, so she waited, and waited… Except…

"Doctor?" she asked, just as he muttered something she couldn't make out, then hit the top of the screen.

"There," he pointed to it, turning to Mercedes… But she was already gone. He looked back to Rose. Whatever happened next, they had no part in it, as far as he knew, and without a new beacon to follow…

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	17. Change the Game

**"The Mistaken M. Jones"**

**17. Change the Game**

_March 2012 – Lima, Ohio_

The last few days, Brittany had found it even harder to focus on school and homework. Ever since she and Santana had learned that there were others at school who had met the Doctor, like they'd done a couple years before, and that on top of this one of his – her – companions was in their school pretending she was a substitute teacher, it had been one question after another, coursing through her thoughts.

This meant that, once she got home at night, she had to give everything she had, to finally get things done. She couldn't allow herself to fall behind, especially now. So there she was, sitting at her desk, elbows planted on the desktop, hands supporting her head and possibly keeping her eyes open… and then her phone chirped, and she startled and nearly let her head smack right down to hit her history textbook. At least she managed to stop herself and reach for her phone.

"_Let me in."_

For how tired and headache prone she was at the moment, all she had seen had been the message, and her mind had immediately jumped to the conclusion that this was Santana, so she hurried down the stairs, pulled the door open and…

"Puck?" she blinked. "What are you doing here?"

"I need to talk to you," he said.

"Okay?" she let him in, shut the door, and led him up to her room.

"Been a while since I've been here," he remarked, looking around. He met her eye again, and they were both remembering exactly what had gone down the last time he'd been there. They snapped out of it, shaking the memory off, and he took care to sit at her desk chair, while she remained standing, crossing her arms in front of herself for lack of knowing what to do with them.

"What do you want to talk about?" Brittany asked.

"I need your help with something," he started.

"It's not for school, is it? Because I'm not…"

"No, it's not for school," he reassured her. "Well, not really. It's the fake sub. Artie won't want to hear me out on this, but I thought maybe you'd be able to lend a hand."

"Why me?" Brittany was at once touched and confused.

"Santana will take it too far, Artie will be dead against it, Quinn, well… you know," he shrugged, and Brittany nodded. "And Sugar, well… she's about as against it as Artie is, and I keep thinking there's something she's not saying."

"So I'm your last choice?"

"I didn't say that. You asked me why not them…"

"I asked why me," Brittany corrected.

"Same difference. Look, do you want to help me or not?"

"But Artie said…"

"I know what Artie said, but I'm saying something, too," Puck stood, frowned, then sat back down.

"You okay?" Brittany stepped forward, hesitant.

"I don't even know what's happening anymore," he admitted. "All I know is that something's coming, and the only way we'll know what is by talking to her, or going with option two."

"What's option two?" Brittany asked, more curious than she'd intended.

"Option two is we look into this Gemma, and she doesn't have to know about it." She didn't get it. "She doesn't have an office, so we can't break in to that, and she never leaves her bag alone unless she knows no one can get to it, so all that's left is her home. If we can find out where that is, we can go there and…"

"Break in?" Brittany's eyes flickered wide.

"You got a better idea of sneaking in somewhere we don't belong?" She said nothing. "So what do you think?" Brittany stared at him for a beat.

"How do we find out where she lives?" she asked tentatively, and he smirked.

"That's the easy part."

Before she knew it, Brittany was following Puck through the doors of McKinley. She hadn't known what to expect, or if there'd even be anyone left at this hour, but the door had still been unlocked, and though the halls were empty, the lights were still on. At the door outside the secretary's office, they'd stopped and looked. The woman was still at her desk, while they could see the principal had already left. This would make it even easier.

"Okay, go," Puck whispered, and Brittany nodded, hurrying out just as they'd planned. She went up to the door, knocked until the woman would get up and come to her.

"The office is cl…"

"Please, I think I left something in class, and if I don't get it back I won't be able to finish my assignment, and if I can't finish it I won't be able to hand it in on time, and if I don't hand it in on time I'll fail class, and if I fail class I'll flunk out, and if I flunk out, I'll…" she rambled on without pausing for air, and before she could lay out exactly what would happen to her if she flunked out, the secretary sighed and went to grab her keys.

"Alright, come on." Brittany led her off, taking a quick look over her shoulder to see Puck had slipped into the office and sat at the computer.

It was almost too easy. All he had to do was put in her name, and he had all the information he could need, and maybe even things he didn't need. He had to admire how she'd managed to infiltrate this place so seamlessly, but then this was McKinley, so maybe it wasn't that hard.

Once he had the information, he put everything back where it had been, left the office and the school, returning to his car as he and Brittany had agreed. A few minutes later she would show up, clutching a folder and smiling brightly.

"Did you get it?" she asked.

"Yeah, I got it. What's that?" he nodded to the folder.

"Turns out I did forget something in there after all," she revealed, shrugging. "So what now?"

"Step two. Not tonight."

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	18. Real Me

**"The Mistaken M. Jones"**

**18. Real Me**

_March 2012 – Lima, Ohio_

She hadn't immediately known what to say, so in order to cover for that she'd slipped into her minuscule kitchen, grabbed a glass, and filled it with water, which she brought back for Walter to drink. She practically had to stick it in his hand and close his fingers around it so he wouldn't drop it, and for one long minute, he just sat there, glass aloft, not moving, not drinking. Then he must have felt it at last, because he turned his face to look at it, blinked, and chugged it down. When it was done, he'd put it down on the nearest surface. Another minute went by where all he did was sit, and breathe, and think.

In those two minutes, Gemma had been left to do a lot of thinking, to decide what course of action to take. These last few months had all been about following a certain number of rules very, very closely. It had been in following those rules that she'd forced herself to keep a distance from the man now shell shocked in front of he. When he looked like he was coming back to his senses just a little, she decided that she'd simply follow her gut, and whatever that gut told her to do, she'd run with it and accept the consequences later.

"I know… you must have a lot of questions… right now," she slowly spoke. This seemed to wake him up more than anything else had before.

"Ginny, what just…" There it was, fight or flight. Tell the truth, spin a lie…

"My name isn't Ginny," she found herself saying, and with those four words, the entire road opened in front of her; she'd made her choice. "My name is Gemma Lucas, and I'm not… I'm not from around here… or now."

"I don't understand…" Walter blinked, staring at her. He was looking at the cuff still on her arm. She breathed deep, in, then out. "This is called a vortex manipulator, and as you saw… it allows me to travel both in space and in time." It quickly became clear to her that, if she was going to get him to believe her, she had to be determined, like she knew what she was talking about. She'd made sure to remind him he had seen what the manipulator could do, before she specified it in any way, or else he might have dismissed what she said next. As predicted, his face looked like it had been gearing to say something along the line of 'that's ridiculous,' but then he'd remembered what had happened after, and then he wasn't so sure anymore.

"Space… time travel…" he repeated, and she nodded. "That's not possible. How can you…"

"This was a gift… a loan… from a friend. I came here in order to help her."

"Ginny…" he blinked, then when he saw her shaking her head, he paused. "Gemma," he repeated the name, and she took a step forward, crouching and taking a knee so to be at eye level with him, but then thought of something and stood again, digging in the pile of books he'd knocked over and returning to his side.

"Look at this, do you see it?" He nodded. She opened the page and showed him the publication year.

"Twenty forty-two?" he kept staring at it.

"I wasn't even born yet," she nodded, and he looked at her again.

"Are you… I mean, I… Are you... human?" he finally asked and she chuckled, nodding.

"Human, American… New Yorker," she declared, and that seemed to deflate some of his shock. "You alright?" she asked, and he took a breath.

"Yeah," he replied. Now that he'd had more time to adjust, he was starting to look amazed more than stunned. "You've travelled back in time," he said the words, still in awe.

"Back, in time, forward… Everything that ever happened or ever will. Aliens, and humans, and some that were both… Charlie Chaplin…"

"He was a bit of both?" Walter stared at her.

"No, I just met him…" she clarified. "Although, you never know."

"So why are you here?"

"Can't tell you that, not exactly…"

"How long do you get to… stay?" he asked, and she tried very hard not to have to look at him when she answered.

"I don't know, not much longer." _June. I'll be gone in June._ She felt his hand at her chin, directing her to look back at him. For one trepidating second, she'd thought he was going to kiss her, but he just stared at her, deep into her eyes like he was trying to find something she'd had hidden there.

"Is that why you wouldn't talk to me?" He had her locked in; she couldn't look away without giving herself away, but he already had the truth, all figured out, so what did she have to give away.

"You want to know how long I get to stay? June. That's when I'll leave, and I won't see you again. I shouldn't even have said yes about this date, but I slipped. And now you know, so what do I…" He was smiling. "Stop that," she begged, but he just kept on smiling, letting her face go. "So you're happy now, is that it?" She wished she had that luxury. Now they'd said it, and it had become so very real.

"Never happier," he nodded. "Might have been more if I didn't know you were leaving, but…" She sighed. "So you've been in here, all this time, by yourself… reading… Because…"

"If no one got attached, then no one got hurt," she stated, granting herself the choice not to have to look at his face, the one she'd known almost immediately she might have been falling for.

"Sounds pretty lonely." She could have thought of a hundred different ways to brush this off without replying honestly. Her gut had been allowed to make decisions now and it was relishing in it.

"It is," she admitted.

"So, June… Now you've got someone to talk to until then." Her smile was a sad one, but it was a smile. She pressed her head just near his shoulder, and he put his arms around her.

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	19. Catching Up

**"The Mistaken M. Jones"**

**19. Catching Up**

_Earth, in the year 4524_

They'd let time get away from them, in the shock of Lenton's message and then in the search for the asteroid. Mercedes had only just managed to notice that the seconds were ticking down to zero before she'd seen the Doctor had finally located it, and then she'd felt herself get pulled away again. There was hardly ever time for her to think much further than what was happening at that one time, but as she opened her eyes after her fourth jump, a gut twisting little thought came to her: How long would this keep going on? Would she just keep jumping and jumping, spending twelve hours of the same day over and over only five years apart each time?

She had very little time to think on it. She was getting that much better at remembering where she would appear and what she should do next. They might as well have put an X on the ground where she stood, because this was always where she ended up. It didn't matter whether she was on a ship, be it the one that was asteroid-bound, or the Doctor's TARDIS, or in Merit's house, or in Lima more than two thousand years ago. She always appeared in the same place, but with each jump it only felt like it was the worst place to be in. Her surroundings looked bleaker than ever, and she immediately made to hide, but only for a minute, to catch her breath and get her bearings, and then she knew where to go.

She walked the near familiar path up to Merit's house, pulling her arms together to try and shake off the chills she kept getting. If she couldn't see the occasional face in a window she might have thought the city was deserted for good. It was one thing for her to live those twelve hours the way she did, but these people had become five years older since she'd been there just a few minutes ago. They knew more than anyone what had left their city so sad and dead looking.

She'd never felt so exposed as when she made it up to the door, rang, and waited. What if someone saw her and called it in? She heard the door open and breathed with relief…

"Sorry," she blinked. "I think I have the wrong address," she looked around. No, this was the right house, but… "Is Merit here?" she asked the woman.

"Merit… Reeslin?" she asked, like it was the last thing she'd thought to hear, on this day or any other. "He hasn't lived here in… what, nearly five years, that's when I bought the house," she nodded confidently.

"Where'd he go?" Mercedes felt her assurances fail her. The woman stared at her for a moment, then stepped aside.

"Better come inside," she told Mercedes, and with nothing else to do, Mercedes walked in. "I probably shouldn't be getting involved. I don't want to get in trouble."

"I won't get you in trouble," Mercedes swore.

"If only it were that easy," the woman guided her into the living room. It looked so different, she might not have known it was the same place. In the times she'd been there before, even with the years, there was barely any change at all. "They got him locked up," the woman revealed. "Honestly, the whole thing is bogus, but there's nothing to be done for it. He should have known…"

"His friend got stuck over on that asteroid!" Mercedes felt suddenly protective for the violet haired man.

"Lenton, I know," the woman frowned back at her. "Most of us have people over there, too. Day I came back after my years was the same day my sister left here. I was one of the last twenty-ones to come back, she was one of the first sixteen to never return. Last time I saw her she was eleven, and I probably won't ever see her again."

"I'm sorry, I didn't think…" Mercedes was quick to apologize. They stood in silence for a moment. "I need to find a way to contact someone, a friend, but I don't know how. Merit should have been here, he might have known…"

"Do you mean the Doctor?" the woman asked, and Mercedes stared at her. "I was wondering when you'd show up. You should see this," she grabbed Mercedes' hand and guided her up the stairs, to the attic. In a corner cupboard, Mercedes watched as the woman pulled back the bottom panel and retrieved a metal box. She handed it over. "The note said you'd know what to do…" the woman explained as Mercedes opened the box, reached inside finding a small round thing… which pinched her palm.

"Ow!"

"Or it might have been that _it_ would know," the woman frowned.

X

_Earth, in the year 1893_

Clara may yet have been new to TARDIS life, but even as she slipped back on board, smirking to herself and attempting to undo the mess of curls atop of her head, she knew what would happen next. Their failed trip to London had landed them in Yorkshire, and now they were leaving again, the blue police box covered in muck… Wherever they did land, cleaning 'her' would be priority one.

"Yes, brilliant," she frowned when the carefully crafted hairdo collapsed over her face. She wondered if priority number two might involve a hair salon…

She'd only just heard the door open and shut when, out of nowhere, the ship was in motion. Clara yelped, holding to the wall, just as she heard the Doctor shouting… No, cheering?

"Doctor?" she called, heading back toward out the way she'd come from and finding him bouncing about from one side of the console to the other. "Doctor!" she rose her voice, hoping to get his attention.

"The Lady Jones is calling, Clara!" he hooted.

"Jones… You told me about her, your old companion… Martha?"

"No, not that one, although, now that you mention it, I do keep a fair amount of those… Jones… Jones… Many Smiths as well…" _And Oswalds…_ he thought. _They're always you. They always die._

"Sense, making any? Soon?" Clara frowned, moving to his side. He startled.

"Blimey, your hair…"

"Jones!" she tapped his arm. He pointed at her.

"Right, short version. Mercedes Jones, mistaken for Martha, bam! Forty-sixth century! Twelve hours, bam! Five years later, meets me… Not this me, old me. Twelve hours, bam!"

"Stop that," Clara begged.

"Meets older me. Twelve hours, and b… Poof… Gone again, never saw her again, left a beacon, far as she knows, she just saw me, now I know where she is, so…" The TARDIS landed. "Now we go and find her. Come along, you'll catch on… And do something with that hair…"

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	20. Synchronizing

**"The Mistaken M. Jones"**

**20. Synchronizing**

_Earth, in the year 4524_

The woman who had taken up residence in Merit's house following his arrest was called Annabel. Her hair was a soft sky blue, which matched her eyes near perfectly. When she had bought the house, she had found it emptied and, for lack of a better term, gutted. There had been holes in the walls, which she took to understand someone had been looking for something. Who the searcher was and what they were looking for, she had no idea, nor did she care. The repairs and all associated costs would be taken care of for her, so she signed the papers, and it was her house.

It was only after she had moved in, started to unpack, that she found the box. It was exactly in the same spot where she would later retrieve it from to show Mercedes, which baffled her. Was this what the searchers had been looking for? Either way, they mustn't have done too good of a job if they hadn't come across it. She had opened it, finding within two things: a sheet of paper, and a round object she could not identify. When she'd held it in her palm, it had come from cool to very hot in a remarkably fast time, but not so much that it hurt her. That was all it did, and it stopped doing it within seconds, so she put it back in the box and focused on the paper.

_To the resident,_

_You have found my beacon. Good. Now, leave it alone. Replace the box just as you found it, keep it hidden, tell __no one__ that you possess it. One day, anywhere from weeks to years, depending on when you come upon this note, a girl will come to your doorstep in search of the previous owner of this house. When she does, it is vital that you give her this box. She'll know what to do. I know you have no reason to trust me, so I will say this: the odds are that you will have lost someone in your life to that asteroid. I intend to do something about it, and this girl will be the key. Help her._

_With regards,_

_The Doctor_

_PS: Sorry about the holes in the walls. And the floors._

In reading the note, all she'd been able to do was picture her little sister's face. Savelyn's heart-shaped face, her eyes, the same blue as hers, her hair a darker shade than hers… Ever since then, she'd held on to the belief that when this girl would come, it would mean getting her sister back. So, she hid the box back where she'd found it, just as the note said, and she went on with her life, a new sort of hope about her, one the bleakness of her city could not stomp away.

And today, the girl had come. Annabel had given her the box, she'd held the object inside, and it didn't just get hot: it pinched her, left a tiny prick in her skin, as though it had sampled her DNA. After that, it had begun to pulse with a light. They'd barely had seconds to wonder, both of them, what it might mean, that they heard a strange sort of thrumming noise coming from downstairs. Together they hurried back into the living room, just in time to see a lanky man in a bowler hat and a woman in a Victorian dress emerge from the blue box planted in the middle of the living room. The man in the bowler hat had his index out and pointing about, scanning the room until he landed on…

"There she is!" he sprinted up, taking hold of Mercedes' shoulders and staring into her startled face. "Centuries since I saw you, how've you been? Well, much the same, I imagine," he corrected himself.

"Doctor?" she finally found her voice.

"You've had quite the couple of days, haven't you? Three Doctors… Could be worse, you could have had all eleven of us… and then some."

"Eleven?" He nodded, pointing to himself. "You're the eleventh."

"Yes, that's right."

"And those other two, the one with the hair," she mimed.

"Tenth."

"And the ears?"

"Hey!" he frowned, touching his own ears. "But… yeah, ninth. Now though, I'm here, and I'll make sure and get you through this, alright? I'll get you home, I promise." Someone cleared their throat. "Clara and I will, we both will, that's Clara," he pointed behind himself before turning about. "Clara, meet Mercedes," he gestured between the two, and Clara nodded.

"Hello."

"Hi," Mercedes did the same.

"And you must be the, ah, the resident, yes?" the Doctor turned to the blue haired girl.

"Annabel," she nodded, staring back at the TARDIS, unable to look away. "How did you get that in here?"

"You should see the inside," he chuckled.

"You made those holes in my…" she pointed to the wall.

"Diversion," he explained. "After you disappeared, there wasn't much I could do for Merit, I'm afraid. I didn't know when I'd be able to make our paths cross again…"

"Couldn't you just… it's five years, every time," Mercedes frowned.

"Ten, Nine, Eleven, remember? I already knew it wouldn't…" He shook his head to say 'anyway.' "So I had to let him go back. I told him he could hide, that I could take him somewhere else, but he insisted. He wasn't going to hide because of them. So, they arrested him."

"Rage issues?" Annabel asked, still waiting for an answer. "The holes, why?"

"They thought he had something to hide, I thought maybe if they thought someone else searched the place after they had him… It doesn't matter now. He's been locked up for something he didn't do, for nearly five years. We have to do something about that, wouldn't you agree?"

"And you'll help get my sister back?" Annabel asked. The Doctor looked back at her, nodding to himself.

"Whatever can be done," he swore to her. "So let's get started."

"How?" Clara asked, and he turned to her, smirking.

"Funny you should ask." He frowned. "You'll need to change."

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	21. Forgotten

**"The Mistaken M. Jones"**

**21. Forgotten**

_Earth, in the year 4524_

As if her hair hadn't looked bad enough before, it had now been stuck under a canary yellow wig fixed into a bun. The color had not been her first choice, but Annabel insisted it would help get her through the door easier, so they'd gone and searched in the depths of the TARDIS, swapping out the Victorian gear for something less conspicuous.

Annabel had given her one more tip, and that was the vital one. The people of the city had been conditioned not to question too much of what was happening with the asteroid. Already that she was going to ask to have visitation with Merit Reeslin would get people's attention, so she had to adjust her behavior so not to make them look at her too close. Clara had some thoughts on that.

Her heels clicked to announce her arrival in the detention facility. A pair of men stopped her, asked what she wanted.

"I wish to speak with Merit Reeslin," she declared, firmly but without meeting their eyes.

"He is in isolated…"

"It's because of the likes of him my mother won't leave the house. She's terrified of your… random searches. She's old, she has a bad hip, she…" They braced up, and she frowned, reasserting herself. "I want to speak to that man." She paused. "Please."

It was near to an hour before anything progressed. Clara had been made to wait, sitting between a tall, bulky man with apple red hair, and a shrivelled up old woman with a short bubble gum pink do. Clara was suddenly much less self-conscious about her own canary bun. Now all she had left to do was hold on and wait for them to let her in… hopefully.

When they called her name – the one she'd given at least – she sprang up so suddenly she was afraid she might have incurred their suspicion, and she did her best to reassume her demure persona.

She had another near break in character when they told her she'd get ten minutes with Merit Reeslin. She was guided to a small room with a table and a couple of chairs. She took a seat, cautiously observing the walls, wondering which one of them had a hidden camera. For all she knew, they were everywhere, and there were people back there, who would watch them and listen to their every word. It was a good thing then that they hadn't searched her before letting her through.

Merit Reeslin's hair in three shades of violet now looked more like three shades of discolored blond, though it had kept growing over the last five years. He was thinner than he used to be, but he didn't look malnourished or mistreated. He sat across from Clara, staring at her.

"I hear you had some things to say," he spoke flatly. Clara's hand slipped over her ear, pushing in the earpiece and activating it.

"I'm a friend of the Doctor's," she still kept her voice low, even though she knew, if all was as it should be, anyone outside of the room would only hear gibberish.

"The Doctor," Merit relaxed into his chair for a moment before leaning back in. "I lost count… Has it been five years?"

"Yes," Clara replied, remembering what the Doctor had told her. "Five years," she confirmed, and in saying it, she thought about what it must have been like for him. She could hardly put it into words. "We'll get you out of here, Merit."

"How do you expect to do that? I told the Doctor, I won't run. And if I leave this place, then I have to leave the city."

"But doesn't staying in the city mean spending the rest of your life here?" Clara pointed out. "You've done nothing wrong."

"It doesn't really matter, not anymore, but I made a promise, and I intend to keep it."

"You promised… to stay in the city?" she guessed. He said nothing, but he didn't have to. "Who did you promise? Your family? Your parents, or a brother or sister? Are you married, or…"

"Please, don't get yourself in trouble on my count," Merit shook his head. "Get out of here, and tell the Doctor thank you for what he's tried to do before, but… this is how it has to be."

The words were barely out of his mouth that the visitation room was filled with the familiar sound of the landing TARDIS. Both Clara and Merit stood back from the table.

"Are there cameras here, can they see us?" Clara quickly asked.

"Of course they can. I'm surprised they haven't come in already, with what we've been…"

"I have a thing, they can't hear what we're really saying," she explained. "I don't think it covers spaceships," she breathed, as the TARDIS had finished materializing. The door popped open.

"What's taking so long?" the Doctor gave Clara a pointed look before turning a smile to Merit. "Hello! Remember me? Well, I can't imagine this helps," he traced a circle around his face. "But this ought to do," he followed through to indicate the police box.

"He… He doesn't want to go," Clara told him, eyes darting between the walls and the door. There was a click overhead, and a voice came through unseen speakers.

"Would you go already? I can only keep them out of there for so long," said the unseen woman. The Doctor stared up, chuckling.

"Shimmer girl!"

"Don't call me that, please?"

"You won't tell me your name," he reminded her.

"All in time, Doctor."

"Had time to change faces twice…" he frowned to himself.

"TARDIS, go, now!"

"Right, thank you!" the Doctor went up to Merit. "Listen, we are going to the asteroid. We are going to deal with this. Are you coming or not?" Merit absently touched his head, then nodded. "Excellent!" he smiled before returning to a frown. "Inside, now. Both of you."

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	22. What Befell

**"The Mistaken M. Jones"**

**22. What Befell**

_Earth, in the year 4524_

The Doctor had followed the others and shut the door once both Merit and Clara were on board. Before any kind of introductions or reintroductions could be made, the TARDIS had taken flight once again, leaving behind the detention facility and the planet itself.

"Merit?" Mercedes blinked when she saw him and recognized him. He looked at her, still in his sister's old clothes, the ones he'd given her ten years ago. She looked the same; he was now thirty-one, had been imprisoned for those last five years… "Are you okay?"

"Better now," he promised her before turning and spotting Annabel. "I know you…"

"Ah, yes, Merit, meet Annabel, the new owner of your old house," the Doctor pointed from one to the other. Merit bowed his head to the woman. It wasn't as though he had any desire – or possibility, really – to return to his former residence. They'd only come and lock him up again. "Why don't the two of you go to the kitchen, you must be famished, and then maybe stop to change clothes," the Doctor pointed.

"Where's the…" Annabel started to ask.

"You'll find it," the Doctor insisted, pointing the way again. So they went.

"Doctor, who was that, the… the shimmer girl?" Clara asked.

"What?" he turned to her, unsure for a moment. "Oh, her, yes, well… She's a girl… who shimmers," he enunciated.

"You fancy her or what?" Clara frowned, still unclear.

"Clara…" he stared at her as though she'd said a bad word. "She shimmers, she… appears," he mimed. "Been following me, popping in for years, and I've never gotten her to tell me why…"

"Or her actual name," Clara nodded.

"Or that," he confirmed.

"She came to me," Mercedes spoke, and they turned to look at her, having forgotten she was there for a minute. "After my first jump, when they almost sent me on that ship, to the asteroid. She came, and she said you'd come, at least I'm pretty sure it was her. She disappeared, like you said."

"Always helpful that one," the Doctor looked back to the controls. He remembered a time when he could only feel as though someone was following him, or staring at him. Then he'd glimpsed her, earning her the only name he could put to her, and he'd tried to catch her in the act… That they were now interacting so casually, with no explanation on her part as to what she was doing, was maybe a concession on his part, having decided that she was no threat, that she was helping… And he remembered what she'd told him, the first time he'd gotten to speak with her…

"There's something else," Mercedes spoke. It took a moment before the Doctor realized she was talking to him, and he turned back to her.

"Sorry?" he asked. Mercedes looked around, making sure the others hadn't returned yet.

"When we watched that message from Lenton... I think…" She didn't want to say it, didn't want it to be real. She'd started to care for Merit, and she thought she understood something about him, and Lenton, and if what she thought was true, then…

"He was the one you met in the park, the one who put that cuff on you?" the Doctor guessed, and she stared up at him, speechless and nodding. "Yes, of course he was."

"But… he died," Mercedes reminded him.

"I know," the Doctor looked as sad as he sounded. Clara had the same sort of morose face, standing silently next to him. "For now, let's just keep this to ourselves, agreed?" the Doctor asked, and they both gave silent agreements, just before Merit and Annabel returned. "There, now, that's more like it!" the Doctor turned on a smile, and Mercedes didn't know how he could do it so seamlessly.

"Nothing to be done about this, unfortunately," Merit touched his hair, which had been tied back, for lack of a better treatment.

"I've seen worse… I've had worse," the Doctor reassured him. "And you should see what Clara's got under that wig… ow!" he flinched when she gave him a sharp little kick. He stood back up straight, taking a step sideways away from her. "Right then, the asteroid… We will have to track it again, I'm afraid. It should have been in here somewhere, but it seems to have gotten lost… So much clutter."

"If you can put things in my head, can you get them out, too?" Mercedes asked. He stared at her, about to ask why she wanted to know, and then he pointed at her, smiling.

"Yes! You saw it, you… oh, Mercedes Jones, you wear the name well, come here," he dashed to her. "Now, concentrate on that moment, when you saw it, much faster. Ready? And…" he put his hands to her face, closed his eyes. She did the same, following his instructions. "Oh, there's me… and me again… I would have looked dreadful in that rainbow hair, wouldn't I? Ah ha! Here it is, the asteroid! Good, now…" He was already running when he let go, and Mercedes would have tripped forward if not for Clara being there to stop her momentum.

Soon the TARDIS was in flight, following the coordinates the Doctor had gotten out of Mercedes' memory. For each of them, reaching the asteroid would have some meaning, whether they'd been waiting or not. For Merit and Annabel, the asteroid held answers, just as it meant finding long lost loved ones. For Mercedes, it meant possibly the end of this adventure she'd been pulled into by mistake. For Clara, having known so little, was already feeling for those people trapped there. For the Doctor, it was the end of a centuries' old mystery.

But for the TARDIS, it was the last place it wanted to be, they gathered, because as soon as they got near enough, the ship gave a sudden and violent shake, as though bucking away from a blaze, or the edge of a cliff… It would not take them there.

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	23. What Becomes

**"The Mistaken M. Jones"**

**23. What Becomes**

_Above the Asteroid, in the year 4524_

Mercedes, Clara, Merit, and Annabel had just barely picked themselves back that they realized there was someone missing among them.

"Doctor?" Clara called out, settling her wig as she looked around. She barely had time to entertain the frightening thought that the doors might have somehow opened and allowed him to be sucked out into space, and then she heard the clunking sound of boots. When she turned, there was the Doctor, in a too-large orange suit, complete with helmet and gloves.

"All of you, go on and stand over there," he pointed.

"You're not going to jump, are you?" Clara gasped.

"What? No, of course not, I'm only going to take a peek, so…" he pointed again.

"So what's with the suit?" Mercedes asked. The Doctor frowned, exasperated.

"For whatever reason, the TARDIS won't approach the asteroid, if this…" he indicated the doors, "… is the closest look I'm going to get, then I want to be prepared, no matter what." Without another word, the four shuffled to the other side of the control room. "Good, stay there," he came just up to the point where he could reach the door handle before turning and pointing his sonic screwdriver to the controls. There was a flickering in the air around the point where he stood, what the others guessed had to be a force field of some kind, isolating the space around the doors before he could open them.

He grasped and pulled them open, staggering for a moment before he would look down. It was barely ten seconds before he shut them again, deactivated the field and ran up to the controls, yanking his helmet off before taking them in flight away from the asteroid.

"What is it, why are you…" Merit asked.

"Quarantine," the Doctor declared.

"Quarantine?" Annabel repeated, confused. "But… no…"

"Are you saying… They're all sick down there?" Clara asked; it made no sense.

"A virus perhaps, something in the air," the Doctor nodded. "Bad enough that she wouldn't let us go near it," he went on, giving a quick and affectionate touch to the panels in front of him.

"But if they're so sick, then why would they keep bringing more kids here?" Clara shook her head, still absently trying to fix the wig, her own mess of brown curls nearly at an escape.

"They'll be contaminated just like the others…" Merit's voice was small. This was what they hadn't wanted him to know, to tell the others. "Lenton, he must have tried to tell me, he said… they needed the young ones, they were still strong, healthy…" It was hitting him that Lenton himself would not be so lucky, and he turned away. Annabel was crying, thinking of her sister.

"That's why," the Doctor told Clara, his voice somber. "The work needed doing, but they'd never get any new workers if they knew what they were walking into, would they? Doesn't matter that they're condemning their city to die out, if they keep sending their children away at sixteen, send them to work for them and then die for them."

"Can't they go somewhere else?" Mercedes asked. "Somewhere they won't get sick?"

"This is the only place they've found this source," Annabel shook her head, sniffing as she attempted to gather herself up again. "It's been… a life saver." She looked like she would be sick, thinking about what she'd known, what she'd believed, and now what she'd discovered. "My sister… Is there any way to make contact with them? Down on the asteroid?" The Doctor looked at her, considered.

"What are they going to do, come after us?" Clara pointed out, turning to him. With a sigh, he moved to the screen, working until an image appeared there, and then a man stepped into view, surprised.

"Who are you? How did you…"

"Yes, hello below!" the Doctor waved. "I need to speak to…" he raised his hand toward Annabel.

"Bode, night shift four," she told him.

"Bode, night shift four," he repeated. "We'll wait," he told the man.

Whether or not the man was in charge, whether or not there were any rules that would have possibly prevented him from doing as the Doctor asked, he told them to wait while he went and checked. As they waited, Merit had his hand up on Annabel's shoulder. She reached up putting her own over his, taking a deep breath.

"Sir?" the man returned.

"Hello again," the Doctor repeated his wave.

"Who are you exactly? Why do you wish to speak with her?"

"Ah, well, I'm not the one, although I'm sure she's lovely. But I've got her sister here, and…"

"I'm sorry, I'm afraid she is not, ah… She is not disposed to… take calls," the man told him. "If I were you, I'd go on my way. Goodbye," he nodded, and the image disappeared.

"Not disposed…" Clara repeated, looking between the Doctor and Annabel.

"Too sick," Annabel replied flatly. "Too sick, or…" She couldn't say 'dead,' but they knew this was what was meant to come next.

"Can't anyone make them better? You're a doctor," Mercedes pointed to him.

"Would that it were so simple," he frowned, pinching between his eyes, thinking.

"How can we help them if the TARDIS won't let us go?" Clara asked. "How many of those suits do you have back there?" The Doctor looked at her, at the other three. He went to Mercedes, picked up her wrist and looked at the time. _0:07:59. 0:07:58. 0:07:57…_ He let out a breath.

"Time's almost up. I'm good, but I'm not that good. Whatever we do, it won't happen now. The clock will run out, you'll go back to Earth, like before, but don't you worry. We'll come and get you again."

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	24. Come About

**"The Mistaken M. Jones"**

**24. Come About**

_Above the Asteroid, in the year 4524_

For a beat, none of them said anything. The Doctor's decision, on its own, was harmless. But then once it was considered in full, there were problems.

"We can't just leave," Mercedes was the first to speak, pulling her arm and the cuff nearer to herself, protectively, and it set the others in motion.

"There's no time," the Doctor told her.

"You made it go faster that other time, make it go slower," she offered.

"It won't do it. It only goes forward, it always goes…"

"Then take it off," she held it to him now.

"Can't, see?" he gave a quick wave of his sonic over the cuff, and when she looked, she found that there was a row of dots just on the edge. Six dots, the three on the left blank, the two on the right lit, and the one in the middle blinking. It only lasted a few seconds, and then they disappeared again. "The jumps will run their course. Then, and only then, will it release."

"Fine, then leave me over there, I can hide for another day. Just go and help them," she insisted.

"Mercedes…" he started, but now Clara joined her.

"If we just leave, and we come back in five years, what happens to them, Doctor?" she asked, and he stared at her, breathing out. "Because that's what we'll have to do, won't we? We go after her, we come back, but not now, in five years. How many of them will die in that time?"

"And if I let her go back, and I don't get her back?" the Doctor countered. "The only reason she's here is because they mistook her for one of my friends. She is my responsibility, and I'm not abandoning her."

"Doctor?" They turned at Merit's call. "I have an idea."

"I've told you, there's no halting the cycle…" the Doctor frowned, waving Mercedes' wrist about.

"No, I mean you're right about letting the time run out. And we will get her, just like you said."

"What about Lenton?" Mercedes asked him. "You love him, what if he…" Somehow, she still wanted to be able to believe that they could save him.

"I know what I'm doing," Merit insisted.

"No… you don't… Doctor, you can't," now it was Annabel who jumped in. "She's dying down there. If we wait five years, it'll be too late, she won't make it that long! This might be the last chance I get to talk to her, after all this time…" she cried. She might have gone down on her knees, with how desperate she was becoming.

"Oh no…" Mercedes breathed. It had been bothering her ever since she'd met Annabel, looking at her, she couldn't help but think she reminded her of someone, and now it all came to her. The encounter had been short, all things considered, but it had not been without leaving an impression of some kind. "Savelyn… That's who your sister is, isn't she?" Annabel turned to her.

"How did you know?"

"I-I met her. The first time I ended up back there. I met her, the day she got on the ship to come here. They were going to send me, too, so we were together for a few hours. She… she was so nice," her voice faltered, remembering how that would mean the girl she'd met was now sick and possibly dying. "Let me go, save her, save Lenton, save all of them," she begged. She couldn't believe she was saying this, knowing what it could mean, but she would rather have to figure out some way to hide for a day, than to know that her life had been put ahead of so many other people. She knew what she had to do. "If you come after me, you won't find me. I'll hide, so you'll just be wasting your time," she stared the Doctor down. He paced away, turned back to her.

"You stop that now, you know I can't…"

"There's one thing I know," she breathed, holding up the cuff. _0:00:08. 0:00:07. 0:00:06._ "Goodbye, Doctor. Merit, Annabel, Clara…" _0:00:02. 0:00:01. 0:00:00._ And she was gone.

The Doctor hurried to the controls, but Clara slipped in between.

"What are you doing?" she asked him.

"What do you think I'm doing?" he picked her up by the shoulders to move her aside, but she bore down, refusing to be moved.

"This is not like you," she stared him down. "You would let them die?"

"Who said anything about letting them die?" he stared right back. "Merit, tell me," he pointed to the former prisoner without turning away from Clara.

"Well…" he sounded momentarily nervous, now that they were looking to him for an answer.

"You'll have to do better than that," the Doctor muttered.

"So we go after her, fine. Then let's just bring the asteroid with us." The Doctor turned to Merit. Clara stared at him, too, as did Annabel.

When the Doctor stepped back, the smile on his face made it seem like he'd been waiting for this. Clara looked at him with some choice words just begging to be spoken. He'd been waiting, so he knew.

"Asteroid just disappeared, didn't it?" she nodded to him.

"It did," he beamed. "Never knew why, one of those mysteries of life I just knew I had to be involved in somehow," he threw his hands out before nodding to the controls, requesting for her to get out of the way. She squinted at him, indicating she was not impressed, and she moved.

One year hence, the sixteens would gather on Earth, because they must, because it was the rule. But the ship would not come for them. And when a ship would be sent out to investigate, they would discover the truth of it: the ship had not come, because the asteroid was gone. They would carry on searching, but without result. No more children would be bound for the asteroid, not again.

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	25. Denial, Denial

**"The Mistaken M. Jones"**

**25. Denial, Denial**

_March 2012 – Lima, Ohio_

Santana didn't know what it was about this whole thing that bothered her so much. Even by her standards, it did feel sort of off balance, but she couldn't help herself. This fake substitute situation was becoming a bit of an obsession for her. She hated not knowing, and the longer it stretched on, the bigger the danger felt, even if they didn't know exactly what it was.

Everything had worked itself out in the end with her and Brittany, she knew, but before it had, there had been this period where they really didn't know that things _would_ be better. For a while, all she knew was that Brittany had been made a prisoner, and that this man Benedict was likely running science experiments on her. Then she'd been a cat, and it remained one of the strangest images she had seared into her memories. But the Doctor had been there, everything had been sorted out… Slowly but surely, the cat features had given way for those of the girl who'd become her best friends.

For days after they'd returned home, Santana had been dedicated to Brittany, making sure she was alright. Even though she looked completely restored, she couldn't shake the thought that maybe her symptoms would reassert themselves and get worse, and then there would be no one to fix her, so she would become more and more of a cat, until there was nothing human left in her.

Maybe, if she was completely honest with herself, that was what drove her. The feelings she'd had for Brittany when this had all begun had been one thing, but compared to what she felt for her now, it was nothing. Now, as much as she had enjoyed herself, seeing the future, and aliens, and all of that… All she could imagine was that they would get pulled into some other grand old adventure, and they wouldn't get through it, one of them, both of them…

And they had to know, didn't they? The Doctor, Gemma the fake sub… They were smart people. Well, she knew the Doctor was smart, and she guessed as far as Gemma… They had to realize that some of them would start piecing it all together, start asking themselves some questions. And all this time, Gemma was there, in their school, their classes, and she was pretending to be someone else, as though it wouldn't be driving them crazy. It just made her want to go up to her and say 'give it up already, we know who you are.' Artie didn't want them to, no. According to him, they had to stay away, and on the one hand she could see his point. But on the other hand, she thought he was being a complete idiot. Then there was the Quinn thing. Something about it just didn't measure up. She was missing something, she knew. There was something about how she was around Gemma. Were they working together? That was really the only possibility, wasn't it?

"Santana?"

She turned at the sound of her voice and found herself standing a few feet from Quinn in her wheelchair.

"Do you mind just…" Quinn pointed to the classroom door next to her and Santana saw the end of a textbook poking out. "It got away from me," Quinn explained awkwardly. Santana went and pulled the textbook from under the door, stood back up, then paused.

"Want it back, follow me," she started down the hall.

"Seriously, we're playing that game now?" Quinn had no choice but roll after her, and Santana wondered if she had any aspirations of speeding along and running her over. But she just followed, and they went together into an empty classroom.

"We need to have ourselves a serious girl on girl talk, Fabray."

"I thought girl on girl was your department," Quinn fixed her with a smirk.

"Hilarious," Santana rolled her eyes.

"Too easy," Quinn shrugged.

"What are you up to with the sub?"

"The sub?" Quinn frowned, clueless.

"Miss Harrison, according to her. I saw you two talking the other day, and…"

"What, I'm not allowed to talk to teachers all of a sudden?" Quinn asked.

"You know exactly what I mean. There's a difference between asking for help on an assignment, or giving a fake excuse to get out of something, and definitely what you were going on about." Quinn kept staring at her. Others might have fallen for her bait more easily. Others weren't Quinn Fabray.

"Which was what?" she asked, which was as good as saying 'I know you have nothing, so if you think you do, then you're going to have to lay it out, because I won't.' It was all in the eyebrow.

"You're spying on us for her," Santana leaned in, planting her hands on the chair's armrests. Quinn smirked.

"Aren't spies supposed to be, you know, able to hide? This thing squeaks, I'm not sneaking up on anyone."

"There is such a thing as hiding in plain sight," Santana turned it back on her.

"And what would I have to gain exactly?"

"Everyone has their price. Just because I don't know what yours is, at least for something like this, doesn't make it any less true. So come on, Fabray, cough it up."

"Don't you have Mrs. Carter next period? I thought she said if you showed up late one more time she'd put you in detention for a month or something." Santana glared at her; she was going to need more than this to break her and, unfortunately, she wasn't wrong. With a frown, she handed the textbook back, and she walked out of the room. She wasn't going to ridicule herself by pulling some kind of 'we're not done yet' parting line.

But they _weren't_ done yet, that much she believed. She might not have gotten through Quinn that time, but she was going to figure out what was going on. Just because she had promised she wouldn't go near Gemma, it didn't mean there weren't other ways for her to get what she wanted. There were so many ways, and she was only getting started.

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	26. When It Was

**"The Mistaken M. Jones"**

**26. When It Was**

_March 2012 – Lima, Ohio_

She'd been so careful all day, but all it took was one moment of inattention and then she'd slipped.

Brittany had been paired with Artie on a Glee Club assignment, and they were discussing potential songs they might do as they walked from the choir room to her locker. They'd gotten turned around at some point and ended up passing in front of the principal's office, and when she'd seen the secretary sitting there at her desk, Brittany had chuckled to herself.

"What's so funny?" Artie asked, confused. Brittany had opened her mouth to speak, and then somewhere inside her a voice had shouted for her not to reply, which had the result of leaving her there, mouth open, uncertain of where to go on from there. "Britt? What's wrong?"

"Nothing?" she frowned.

"You don't sound sure," he pointed out.

"Nothing," she pressed on the word so it wouldn't sound like a question. That was a red flag if he'd ever seen one.

"Brittany, what did you do?" Artie asked, wheeling in front of her so she'd stop.

"I didn't do anything, I just had to distract her," she nodded, and then she knew she'd said too much.

"Distract who from what?"

X

Puck was already having a crappy day before Artie came up to him. He knew he wasn't exactly the most attentive of students, but he had honestly tried this time, studied before the test, and when it had been handed to him, he'd found he had failed… again.

"Puck!" He turned when he heard his name and found Artie barreling down the hall, which was blissfully empty.

"Hey, you gotta help me with this, dude, I'm never getting out of here if I don't…"

"What do you think you're doing?" Artie cut in, and Puck frowned.

"Trying to graduate, what does it look like I'm doing?"

"I'm not talking about your test. Brittany told me what you two did. You broke into the secretary's…"

"Hey, mind keeping your voice down, I don't think Figgins heard you," Puck glared at him.

"You broke into her office to get Gemma's address?" he continued, only barely managing to lower his voice.

"First off, we didn't break in, the door wasn't locked, we just kind of lured her away," he specified.

"Yes, because I'm sure that'll make a big difference."

"Second off, so what if we did?"

"You know very well why," Artie maintained. Puck didn't need this, not on top of everything else.

"No, I don't think I do. What I'm thinking is it used to be the two of us on this, and it was sort of weird at first, but we were actually getting somewhere, or at least we would try to get somewhere, then this one came on, and then that one, and right now they're way more into this than you are, all you do is try and keep us away from her, almost like…"

Artie had been becoming friends with Puck, more so since this had started, but still before, too, in Glee Club, and he'd almost forgotten how scary the guy could be, because he hadn't been incurring that wrath himself. Now though, he was just a little bit nervous, especially with where the conversation was turning to. He didn't want Puck to say the next words, because he was just about sure he was headed in the right direction, but there was no stopping him.

"Hold on," Puck frowned. "I know what this is about now," he nodded, sure of himself. Artie still held to the hope that Puck would be completely off the mark and everything would be alright. If he should have been so lucky…

"Puck…"

"You talked to her, didn't you? She knows we're on to her."

"Puck…"

"Did she tell you to throw us off?" He wanted to be a better liar than this. He thought he had been, all this time. But now, once he was faced with the accusation, he deflated in an instant.

"It's not what you think…"

"Please, tell me where I got it wrong," Puck dared him. Artie took a breath, choosing his words.

"She… She called me into her class one day, and she… told me she was really Gemma," he revealed. Puck looked like he might have punched him in the face if he wasn't in a wheelchair, and Artie wondered if there were any port-o-potties in the area. "All she said was to try and keep the talk to a minimum. She doesn't want the truth to get out, that's all."

"Did she tell you why she's really here?" Puck asked.

"No, I promise, that's the truth," Artie looked him straight on, so he'd know he wasn't lying. "She told me that eventually she would be able to tell me, tell us, but until then, the less people knew, the better, which… well, we haven't done too good on that," he frowned to himself. They were quiet for a moment, and Artie almost didn't want to look back at Puck and see what he was thinking, but he made himself do it anyway. The other boy was hard to read at the moment. "Look, I know you want to know what's going on, and I do, too. But please, whatever you're thinking of doing, don't…"

"You don't have to be a part of it if you don't want to, I won't force you. But it's time we got some answers, so me and Britt, we'll take care of it, and I'd really appreciate it if you didn't go and tell your little friend about it. I really can't afford to get arrested right now, and Brittany would never make it if she got locked up."

With that, Puck had left him there, and Artie had let him go, deciding it was not the best idea to follow him at the moment. Still, now he was left with a dilemma, whether to keep Puck and Brittany's secret, or to tell Gemma about it. If he told, he could pretty much wave goodbye to any of his friends telling him anything again, but if he kept quiet, if something happened and they got mixed up in something they shouldn't be, or if they got caught… There really was no right way of doing this, and knowing that, it only left him that much more lost.

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	27. All Together

**"The Mistaken M. Jones"**

**27. All Together**

_Earth, in the year 4529_

It was all becoming so normal to her, and even then, there was always that one moment, right after the jump, that moment when her head started to clear and she knew she had made it through, and she wasn't entirely solid on her feet yet, but more than ever she knew she'd need to fix that and soon. Even as she'd been pulled away from the TARDIS that last time, there had been one single thought in her head, her entire driving force: Run.

She hadn't even bothered to take in her surroundings, to gauge what the last five years had done to this place. The moment she knew her feet could carry her, she was gone, slipping in between buildings, same as she'd done the last couple of times. Only once she'd taken cover did she allow herself to stop and think about anything else.

For all she knew, she'd be waiting out by herself for a very long time. She'd told the Doctor not to come for her, to worry about the asteroid the people inside it first, and she had no way of knowing whether he would listen or if he'd come anyway. At this point, she saw it as being a fifty-fifty chance.

It had been almost too easy to tell him to leave her behind when she'd been up there. It was the right thing to do, and in the heat of the moment, she had run with it. But now it was done, and she was by herself, and the more she allowed it to sink in, the more she feared what that might mean. Could she really survive through this on her own? The way the Doctor had gone on about it, she might have had another full day ahead of herself of being prisoner to the whims of her cuff.

Could she chance going up to the house which had first been Merit's and then became Annabel's? Maybe one of them had gone back there in the last five years, or both of them, or… Or maybe it was some whole other person, and she didn't know if she could trust them. She knew she'd been lucky before, but what if she wasn't lucky this time and she revealed herself to someone who would end up turning her in? No matter what she chose, at some point she would need to find food, and she didn't want to steal anything. She had money on her, but they'd take one look at the year on there, if they even used the same kind of money now, and they'd know something was up.

Then something came back to her, a thought… She didn't even remember who'd told her about this, was it Merit, or the Doctor, or… No matter who had said it, the point was someone had said how the children were scared to go and board the ship when it was their turn. And if they were scared, then Mercedes could bet their parents were the same, too. By this time, if the timetable had not changed in all those years, all the sixteens would already be gathered and about to board the ship, while their families were forced to stay back. If she could find parents and appeal to them, being that she was seventeen and technically should have been sent to the asteroid… She didn't want to abuse people's kindness, but desperate times called for desperate measures, and she would find a way to pay them back when this was done.

She wasn't exactly familiar with her surroundings. The extent of her getting around went from the point where she always landed, to the place where they'd given her the uniform, to the holding room where they'd waited to be brought to the ship. Other than the ship itself, she'd seen back streets, then Merit-then-Annabel's house… Where was she going to find a family?

She crept along the back streets, the better to get away from where she'd landed, and she was about to move up the same path she'd used since she met Merit, when she saw – and was seen by – a pair of guard-looking men. How long had it been since she'd landed and her cover was already blown? She could run, but could she really outrun those guys? She doubted it… tried anyway.

The whole time, they shouted, which only managed to tell her if they were gaining on her or not, which naturally they were. And then a hand closed around her arm and yanked her aside. Darkness fell around her, and there was a hand clasped to her mouth, keeping her quiet. She struggled, and her captor shushed her. It took a moment before she realized they were no longer outdoors, and just as she did, she heard the running footsteps pass them, outside wherever it was they were. Once the noise had completely disappeared, the other had let her go, and she'd scrambled aside. A light came on, and after blinking to see clearly again, Mercedes saw she was sitting in a cramped sort of storage area with a man who'd seen cleaner days. Even then, he looked familiar.

"Who…"

"You… I know you, but it's impossible, you look…" he was stunned… so was she. She recognized him.

"Gravis," she spoke, and when he reacted, she knew she'd pegged him right. This was a far cry from the polished young guard she'd met, by his standard, twenty years ago. "Did you follow me?"

"I didn't… I thought I heard… people running. I opened the door, saw you… hid you." She looked around the small space.

"You live here?" He nodded. "Why?"

"It's better than being locked up," he shrugged.

"What happened?" she asked.

"Don't you know?" he blinked, confused. "Ever since the asteroid disappeared…"

"It did what?" she blurted out, surprised, and he shushed her. "Sorry," she lowered her voice. So he told her the story, about the year the ship didn't come, and what had happened when they'd sent their own ship. For a moment, she didn't know what to say. "But if the asteroid's gone, then what… What happened to the Doctor and those guys?"

"Doctor who?" Gravis wasn't following her. She didn't know whether or not she should tell him. He had saved her after all, but how did she know he wouldn't turn on her?

And then there was a knock on the storage space's door. They both froze. Gravis reached for a long metal rod he seemed to have adopted for a weapon. She didn't know what he intended to do with it, and she wasn't sure she wanted to find out. But then…

"Sorry, I'm looking for this girl, you…" She knew that voice, and she frowned, pushing the door open. There were two of them there, a lanky man in a bowler hat and a young woman in a canary bun. They both dipped sideways to see into the space. "Mercedes, yes, hello," the Doctor nodded. "Hope we didn't keep you waiting."

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	28. Confidence

**"The Mistaken M. Jones"**

**28. Confidence**

_Earth, in the year 4529_

The TARDIS was conveniently landed for a quick getaway, and once they had Mercedes and Gravis on board - Mercedes had insisted to have him along, she'd believed they would leave right away, but they did not. She greeted both Merit and Annabel, who looked just as they'd done when she'd seen them before the jump, which she took to confirm that they had not gone and lived through the last five years. They were just as surprised to meet Gravis there as he was surprised to meet them.

"What happened to you?" Annabel asked, also remembering him as he'd been. He looked down.

"He said the asteroid disappeared," Mercedes spoke in his place. "Is this even possible?" she turned to the Doctor.

"I don't know," he moved about the controls, flipping a switch and bringing her around to see. "You tell me."

Mercedes squinted at the screen, unsure of what she was seeing until he pointed out one thing and then the other, then repeated the motion until she got it. She looked upward, as though asking herself.

"You didn't..."

"He did," Clara confirmed.

"All those sick people, far away from home and without hope, but now... now..." he gestured overhead. "They've come back."

"But they're still sick," Mercedes didn't understand.

"Sick?" Gravis blinked; he still had no idea.

"Ah, yes, well... Annabel, would you mind terribly helping him find some new clothes? At the same time if you could fill him in..." She hesitated at first, but finally she consented and they went on their way.

"You're going to make them better, aren't you?" Mercedes looked back to the Doctor.

"That is the intention, yes. I just need to find the cure..." They were quiet for a while, all three staring at the Doctor, waiting. When he realized they were watching, he frowned, moving across the control room as though they wouldn't be watching him anymore if he stood there. "Well, someone say something, it'll come," he promised.

Mercedes looked to the cuff on her arm, the ever familiar numbers ticking away. _11:12:02. 11:12:01. 11:12:00…_ She'd been going around all this time, not asking, but she had to know.

"What is this thing?" she asked, holding up her arm.

"Ah, yes, I'll take that one," he went to her, then looked back to Merit, about to speak, and then he stopped, his tone becoming less playful. "The man who gave this to you, you know who that was," he bowed his head to Mercedes, who blinked, eyes darting for a moment toward Merit.

"Lenton," Merit said it for her, walking up nearer to them.

"I met him, too," Mercedes told him. "When he was sixteen. His hair was orange." This made Merit smile.

"He changed it before he left. It used to be a sort of forest green, but when we found out I wouldn't get to go to the asteroid with him, he changed it to orange."

"Why?" Clara asked, having gravitated toward them. As a response, Merit lifted up his sleeve to show a sort of rubber band, wrapped around his wrist, carrot orange just like Lenton's hair.

"This marked me as unfit for duty. It was his way of taking me with him."

"The way I see it, he was the one planning to wear this cuff," the Doctor went on.

"But why? Twelve hours every five years…" Mercedes frowned.

"Twelve hours every five years, on Earth, in near proximity to the one he loved," Clara had understood it, smiling to Merit.

"He never got to grow up with you," the Doctor nodded. "You have to understand, to acquire something like this, to even find it… It would have cost him everything he had to give and then some. But some things are worth being penniless for," the Doctor tapped Merit's arm. The once violet-haired man had not had so much color in his face since before they'd sprung him from prison.

"But if he was here all this time, how did he get it?" Mercedes had to ask the obvious question.

"How do you think? Somehow he was cured, got to leave the asteroid and wander about space until he found what he was looking for. Clearly someone must have told him there was such a thing as might help him get where he wanted to be."

Merit reached for Mercedes' hand, to look at the cuff, the thing Lenton had fought for. Something didn't make sense anymore. Here he'd known, as much as he didn't want to believe it, that Lenton was dead. But he'd believed the cause of that death was the sickness which had infected the people on the asteroid. So if he'd been cured, and he'd left there… then how had he ended up dead, where he did, when he did…

His thumb pressed down on the side of the cuff, imagining a time when Lenton might have touched it, too. Almost as soon as he did, the cuff gave out a small ping, and he pulled his hand away.

"What…" Mercedes looked at the cuff, as did the Doctor, and Clara, and Merit. They all looked, and they all saw as a series of digits, smaller than the countdown numbers but in the same fashion, appeared in line upon line along the back of the cuff.

The Doctor stared at it, at once stunned and exhilarated. He took Mercedes by the hand, took out the sonic screwdriver.

"Is it a message?" Clara asked.

"No… Well, yes… It's not the news from home, but it will do them all a world of good. This is it… This is the cure, or how to go about creating it." He flipped the sonic back over hand, holding it like something precious as the digits disappeared from the cuff. "I can see why you love this man, he's brilliant!" As Gravis and Annabel returned, the former guard looking much better, the Doctor cut past them. "Sorry, coming through, there is work to be done!"

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	29. The End of the Day

**"The Mistaken M. Jones"**

**29. The End of the Day**

_Earth, in the year 4529_

The city should have been in full activity by now. The year's batch of sixteens should have been queuing up, on their way to the ship which would take them to the asteroid. But there was no one there, not that morning, not that one or the one the year before, and the year before that, and before… Five years. And for the first time in generations, boys and girls got to stay with their families, through those long five years they would have once been forced to spend on an asteroid, digging.

Some people in the city might have worried themselves over where the asteroid had gone, what it would mean for all of them, but that was not all of them; that was not most of them.

They may not have known what was really happening on that asteroid, but they knew that their children weren't coming back anymore, not the way they used to. So when the day came that the ship did not come for them, they didn't gather and question it. They stayed in their homes and hugged their children, and they prayed that the ship would never come again. Their prayers were answered, when the ship didn't come, and when they learned that asteroid had disappeared. Those of them who still waited for a return chose to believe that, whatever had happened to their children, they were better off; it was the only thing they could do, because the alternative was that much worse.

But on this morning, the former boarding day, something did happen, and it did bring the people out of their homes: the word was out that something had been sighted, way up in the skies. And some people were claiming it was the asteroid, right there over their planet. They had been quiet before, but they wouldn't be this time. They were going to use this to start sending the children out again, they knew it, and they weren't going to let it happen, not anymore. They'd rather go themselves if they had to.

The city's governors had been forced to come forward and face the growing crowd, and they were still doing their best to make themselves heard over the din when all of a sudden a man came dashing up to stand at their side, followed by a few others, including a blue haired woman, another in a canary bun, and a man who managed to do what they'd been trying to do without saying a single word: he got their attention.

"It's Merit Reeslin!" someone called out. The Doctor used this sudden focus among them to address the crowd.

"Yes, hello, my rainbow haired friends! I'm the Doctor, how are you doing? In case you haven't heard, there is now an asteroid in orbit overhead. Not just any asteroid either. Now here's the thing you might not know, the people up there, your people, what they haven't told you," he pointed to the governors. "What they haven't told you is that they're ill, and that's why they haven't been returned to you. If they had, well, you would have gotten as sick as they are." The people began to shout again, but the Doctor silenced them. "Now if there's anything you need to discuss, any questions you have, please," he clapped the shoulder of the nearest man at his side. "Don't hesitate to ask them, down to the last detail, please, take your time, don't be shy. And while you're doing that, we are going to see to your people. If they can be treated and sent back to you, they will, but prepare yourselves for the possibility that they might not. Thank you," he nodded to them before turning to his group. "Go on now, back to the TARDIS."

They'd walked all the way back, but even as they stopped in front of the door, the Doctor blocked their path. He looked at all their faces, Clara, and Mercedes, Merit and Annabel, and Gravis… He knew what they intended to do, and it was their choice, but he couldn't help but feel like he had to give them a way out.

"You need to understand, anything could happen once we go up there."

"Isn't that what those shots were for?" Mercedes frowned, touching her arm, which was still sore.

"Yes, of course, but…"

"You're going up there, why shouldn't we?" Clara gave him a pointed look. _Because I can regenerate. You can't._

"Fine," he looked aside, "Then let's get going." He opened the door and they filed in. "Suits on, all of you. Make sure they're tight."

Most of them were getting ready with plenty on their minds, so the Doctor's reminder might not have been overstating things at all. Gravis had been reduced to living on the run, making his home out of a crawl space, and Mercedes had been pulled into something she never should have been a part of. But she was there now, and she wanted to help. Then there was Annabel, preparing to go and help all these people while she knew very well that there was a chance her little sister, her dear Savelyn, might be beyond helping. And Merit, well… Merit might get one chance to see Lenton again, and he didn't know if he'd get to talk to him, to tell him what he'd been wanting to tell him for years, but there was a chance that he might finally do it, and that was enough to send him onward.

"When this is done, you and I have an appointment with a salon," Clara informed the Doctor.

"Why, what's wrong with my hair?" he blinked, reaching to touch his head before he remembered the helmet. Clara smirked. "You knew I was going to do that, didn't you?"

"Crossed my mind, yeah. But I wasn't kidding about the salon, not for you," she raised her hand before he could speak, "I have a feeling I'm going to need it when I get this wig off," she pulled her helmet on, over the wig and all.

"No argument there." Before she could argue, he moved to the controls. "Right, everyone! We are headed into the asteroid, provided no one stops us this time," he seemed to address the ship. "We treat, and we evacuate, is that clear?" They nodded. "Good. And we're off!"

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	30. The Man Came

**"The Mistaken M. Jones"**

**30. The Man Came**

_The Asteroid, in the year 4529_

As far as they'd known, within the asteroid, the year was still 4524. They were still not entirely aware as to what had happened to them a few hours ago, and it took a while for them to notice their altered coordinates. It wasn't until the strange blue box appeared in their midst and the man came out of it, told them to take those readings, that they could realize not only that they had moved into space, until they were just over Earth, but that it was also five years later, and while they had felt and experienced nothing, their people below had gone through those years wondering where they had disappeared to.

They didn't worry themselves too much on the details, and what would have been the point? Here was someone who came with the thing they had only ever been able to dream of over the past several years. Their sick could be treated, they could go home. All in all, they cooperated without incident.

Ships were sent from below, made to stand by with very specific instructions. One ship's task would be to take those who were not contagious down to the surface, along with those they could declare as out of risk. Another ship would take those who were beyond help. And a third ship was brought along, for those who would be classified as non-contagious or on the mend, who would decide they didn't wish to return to Earth. Already they knew one such person… if they could find him.

The message Lenton had sent to Merit had somehow manage to downplay just how overcrowded and desolate the asteroid had become. Annabel and Gravis were the only two among their group who had been here before, in their own years, and as they saw it now they could barely recognize it.

"It wasn't this way before," Annabel shook her head. "I mean we weren't so afraid to come here. Yes, it was hard work, and it was painful to be away from our families, but it was just part of our lives, something we all had to go through. This is a horrible place."

"Well I've got good news then," the Doctor told her. "Because once we've gotten everyone out, we will be destroying it." It should have been the kind of statement that elicited a categorical no, but with all they knew, and all they were seeing, there just was nothing left worth to salvage.

The triage and immunization process was a long one, and the first ship – as those on the mend were thankfully in the majority – had to be sent down to unload and return back up a few times.

Mercedes had been with Annabel when they'd found Savelyn. She was in a unit filled with those who were not expected to recover. It was almost impossible to navigate toward the right bed. They had to go by the names marked at each bed post or they wouldn't have recognized her. The girl they had last seen had been eleven in Annabel's case and sixteen in Mercedes'. That girl had been young and cheerful, and her hair was a radiant blue that would have made the TARDIS proud. The woman they found here had lost the blue, and a lot of the spirit for life she once had. She was not all that old, they had to remember, but looking at her now, so weak and helpless, they could never have guessed.

"Savi?" Annabel crouched, feeling herself tear up. Savelyn was awake, but it took a long time of looking through the visor in that helmet and into the woman's face for her to realize who it was.

"Annabel… How are you here?"

"It's a long story," she sniffled, reaching to hold her hand despite the glove. "I'll tell it to you later, alright? Does that sound good?" Savelyn nodded. "Look, there's someone here to see you, I don't know if you remember her," she motioned for Mercedes to step forward. Her face had not changed at all; maybe this made her easier to recognize.

"I know you," Savelyn blinked.

"You do," Mercedes confirmed, slightly frightened but surging on nonetheless. She handed Annabel the shot. The blue haired woman looked at it with a sad face, and she shook her head. There was no point; it would only be a waste.

"I've got her," she told Mercedes. "Go on and help the others."

Merit had found Lenton faster than he'd thought he would. He had found him, but he hadn't approached him. He had gotten his shot, and they could already see it was taking effect on him. Now he was helping care for the others, as though he wasn't a patient at all but one of those who'd come to save them. When Clara came to stand at Merit's side, he turned to her.

"I can't go there," he stated.

"Why not?"

"If he knows I'm here, then he won't go. And if he doesn't go, then he won't carry the cure code in that cuff of his, and none of it will happen the way it should. I get it; he might not. But it's alright… I've seen him… he's alright," he smiled, but even there Clara could hear his sadness; he knew what was there for Lenton, in his future. He would do great things, courageous things, yes… and then he would get himself killed.

So Clara did something for Merit, and she went and spoke to Lenton. She didn't tell him that Merit was there. She told him other things, and when he'd be done helping the others, he would board the third ship.

The time had run out on Mercedes' jump, and she had disappeared on them, just as they were nearly at the end of their task. After she'd gone, they finished the evacuation, until all that was left, before they could take the asteroid to a safe distance and destroy it, was for the Doctor's team to regain the TARDIS. Annabel had said her goodbyes to her sister, Merit had watched Lenton from afar until he was gone… There really was nothing left.

"That's it then, all set?" Clara asked the Doctor, as he came up last. The Doctor stopped and looked back for a moment.

When the old man came around the corner, he stopped, and their eyes met, the Doctor stared at him long and hard, and then he bowed his head.

"All set." The Doctor came on board, closing the door, and soon they were gone, off to find Mercedes again.

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	31. With Eyes Wide Open

**"The Mistaken M. Jones"**

**31. With Eyes Wide Open**

_March 2012 – Lima, Ohio_

Her grandmother used to tell her never to stick her ear against the door unless she was prepared to have it smack her in the face. She'd never believed as much as she did on this day. She hadn't planned to eavesdrop, but as she'd walked past, she noticed Puck and Artie, and then she'd heard Artie say something that caught her attention.

"You broke into her office to get Gemma's address?"

After that, she'd stayed out of the way, as much as could be managed, but she had kept on listening. She didn't know why, but it felt like she should be listening, so she did.

It didn't take her really all that long to clue in to what was really going on, though that was in great parts thanks to her conversation with Quinn a few days before. Because of that conversation she knew that there were others around her who had met the Doctor, too, and though neither of those boys had actually said the name, she only needed to take what had been said in order to understand. Artie, and Puck… They'd met him, too. It made her want to go to them, but then she remembered what Quinn had told her, about what her 'friend with the sunglasses' had instructed her to do: she couldn't go to them, couldn't let them know what she knew, not yet.

She was still thinking about all of this when she walked into Miss Harrison's class. She sat in her seat, took out her things in order to present herself as attentive, but really she knew there was no way it would happen. Her head was too fixated on what she'd heard, and something else, too, something that was bugging her for reasons unknown. What was it that was so important for her to figure out? Her mind was miles and miles away, her eyes trailing along after the substitute like a pair of dutiful servants.

_Your friend with the sunglasses…_

She actually jumped in her seat, and if the desk hadn't stopped her, she might have tipped right over. Her pen had clattered to the ground in the aisle, and the girl in the next aisle bent over and picked it up, handing it back. Mercedes gave her a quiet thanks, looked at the pencil… She had to see if she was right. She kept the pencil at the ready, and when Miss Harrison turned to face them, she lifted the pencil, as casually as she could, up to where from Mercedes' perspective it would obscure the teacher's eyes, leaving the rest of her to look at and pretend as though she was actually wearing…

It was her. She was positive now. That was the woman who'd come to her, the one with the sunglasses, and the one who'd helped her and the Doctor and Clara to break Merit out of prison. She was… Who was she? What had Puck and Artie been saying about someone being here, at McKinley? They'd called her Gemma, said that she was here to do something and they didn't know what. What was she going to do? Was she an alien? Was she going to hurt them? Help them?

The rest of the period was a blur, but as soon as it was done, Mercedes had taken her things and she'd hurried out of class, looking for Quinn.

She found her at her locker. "I need to talk to you," she said, just nearly lacking in breath.

"What happened?" Quinn asked, sensing things had changed.

"Artie… Puck… They're two of the ones you were talking about, aren't they?"

"Mercedes…" Quinn tried to silence her, but the best she would get was that she'd try and lower her voice, because this was too much and she needed to know.

"You said 'my friend with the sunglasses.' That was Miss Harrison, wasn't it? But Artie and Puck, they called her Gemma."

"Alright, slow down," Quinn wished very much she could be standing on her own two feet at that moment, and it wouldn't even have been for the sake of having legs that worked, it would have been to make Mercedes stop talking.

"They said things about her, they said she was here to do something. Who is she? What is she? Is she an alien or…"

"She's human, okay?" Quinn cut her off, hands up so she would stop talking. "She's a companion of the Doctor, not any of the ones you met but the one after, the Twelfth. For some reason, she's here, and we don't know what it is, but it is to help the Doctor, got it? She's one of the good guys, so just…"

"Are you sure?" Mercedes asked.

"Very sure," Quinn promised. "Look, the day I had my accident, the Doctor sent her to stand by the road so that she could call for help, make sure I'd be taken care of in time. After that she came to me, she told me who she was, and she asked me to help her. I had to let the others know that I'd met the Doctor, without them knowing I'd talked to her, and then she told me to go and talk to you. That was all. She is with us. But you can't tell anyone, and you can't tell her you know either, alright?"

Mercedes bowed her head, finally nodding. She soon went on her way, and Quinn finished getting what she'd needed from her locker and started on her way toward her next class. She'd barely rolled inches though that someone came and stopped in front of her, blocking her path and forcing her to stop.

"Hey, Quinn," Santana was looking down at her with a triumphant smile.

"What do you want, Santana?" Quinn frowned, trying to get around her.

"Oh, I just wanted to tell you something, and please, just stay where you are right now because I'm going to enjoy this," she leaned in to look her in the eye. "Gotcha."

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	32. Choices

**"The Mistaken M. Jones"**

**32. Choices**

_Earth, in the year 4534_

She'd been standing among the evacuating diggers, and as she was wearing the protective suit, she couldn't see the time running out on her, which was worrisome on its own. It still didn't compare with the feeling of the jump coming on her with no warning. By the time she landed, she had no power to steady herself and she fell forward, breathing deep. Her instinct was still to get away, but she couldn't have walked, much less run. She was hyper aware of the bulky suit she was wearing, which would look so strange to anyone who saw her, like some kind of invading alien.

_It should be better now. We saved those people._ That was what she tried to tell herself, like it would reboot her energy and she could stand again, but she still struggled.

A pair of feet came into view, and it took her a moment to confirm she wasn't in fact hallucinating and the feet were really as small as she saw them.

"I found her!" a child's voice called out.

"Savi, get back here," a woman spoke then, and the feet went away.

Someone took her by the arm and carefully turned her on to her back. The sun glared into her eyes, but then a trio of faces swam overhead. One of them was a man with deep violet hair with a pair of thin canary yellow lines running through. Opposite him was a woman, her hair a pale blue save a deeper blue streak near her ear, holding a small girl with cherry red pig tails. She recognized the woman first.

"Annabel?" she blinked as the man crouched to help pull the helmet off her head. When she looked at him again, she realized she did know him, too. "Gravis?"

"Welcome back," he smiled. He looked a lot more like the young man she'd met several jumps ago, no longer the skittish man from the crawl space. She was freed of the gloves, and as they came off, she felt something click. When she looked at her arm, the cuff was gone; it had released and remained in the glove. She picked it out, looked at it. It was at once like getting a shard pulled from her finger, sudden relief… and at the same time it was like losing an old friend.

Gravis helped her to her feet, and she wasn't thinking so much about where she was anymore, she took off the rest of the suit, back in Merit's sister's old clothes. She took a breath, and finally she could look around and take in the city around her.

It was like all the color had been returned, all the life. It looked even livelier than it had done on the very first day she had landed here, with men, women, children, all moving about their day. This was no longer departure day, no one was expected at any ship. Better yet, no one went about looking as though they needed to be afraid.

"Mercedes!" the little girl exclaimed, still trying to get her attention. She couldn't have been more than four years old, maybe not even that. It was the first time she could remember wondering what was the situation with all these hair colors. Clearly they were not born with them, but for a child as young as this one to have received a color, it couldn't have been all that harmful. Maybe it was some kind of futuristic dye…

"You know my name," Mercedes smiled at the girl, and she nodded vigorously.

"We told her all about you, promised she'd get to meet you today," Annabel explained, beaming brightly. Finally Mercedes put the pieces together.

"This is your daughter?" she looked from Annabel to Gravis, and they smiled.

"Her name is Savelyn," Annabel said this with pride and memory twining in her voice.

They'd walked her back to their house, which was Merit's old house. It seemed that, after Annabel had disappeared ten years ago, a young woman in uncharacteristically dark brown hair had come about and put a claim to the house, keeping it vacant for all of five years, after which the returned Annabel and Gravis were able to reclaim it. Within a year they would be married and expecting the child that was to be named in honor of Annabel's fallen sister. They were four of them living in that house, the fourth being Merit Reeslin, who had his room and lived among them, young Savi calling him her uncle. The three adults conveniently forgot to mention how they were somehow five years younger than they were meant to be.

He was there when the others brought Mercedes along, though his hair was no longer faded, and it had not been returned to its three shades of violet. It was a uniform forest green.

Mercedes also knew there would be two more waiting for her in that house. The blue police box had been parked just outside, like one very tall lawn ornament. There were the Doctor and Clara, still in her canary bun. She was the first to come forward, and she hugged Mercedes.

"So it's done?" Mercedes asked them all.

"Yes," the Doctor confirmed. "The asteroid was destroyed, the people recovered, all but those who were too far gone I'm afraid," he spared a quick look to Annabel, still with her daughter perched in her arms. "Those were kept peaceful until the illness ran its course."

"And Lenton, he got away?" she asked, showing the Doctor the cuff which had come off her arm. He took it, pocketed it.

"It would appear he did. So now, as for you, Miss Jones, it would appear it's now to take you home."

"Right," Mercedes breathed. She wouldn't be sorry to go back home, but at the same time… All she'd done was run, for a few very tiring days. And just when she wanted to stop and look around…

"Doctor?" Merit stepped up. "If you don't mind, before you go on your way, there's one more thing I need your help with."

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	33. A New Day

**"The Mistaken M. Jones"**

**33. A New Day**

_The Asteroid, in the year 4509_

The passing of this day was always the most hectic every year. Their most senior diggers, the twenty-ones, were packing up their minimal belongings and preparing to board the ship that would take them back down to Earth, and it would also fall to them to prepare the space which would soon be occupied by the new sixteens on their way to start their years. Then there were those of them who, after they'd completed their mandatory years, had returned home before eventually returning to them, not as diggers but filling nonetheless important tasks all about the asteroid, anything from trainers to cooks. Even then, they couldn't help but feel short staffed. As much as they tried to fill those positions, very few volunteered.

"Attention, attention," a voice came through speakers overhead. "The transport ship is approaching. All twenty-ones scheduled for return, please present yourselves in docking station one."

The ship would arrive, and soon a throng of fresh-eyed sixteen-year-olds in pristine new uniforms would begin to file out, still talking amongst themselves about the girl who had disappeared from among their ranks. The day shifters would be escorted one way, including the carrot haired Lenton Daen, while the night shifters, including blue haired Savelyn Bode, would go the other way.

"Right, twenty-ones!" a man stood facing the departing group. His hair had once been of a golden color so vibrant it might actually have been spun gold. Today, only tufts remained, though he maintained the color as best he could.

"Sorry!" a voice resonated from within the ship, and then a lanky man in a bowler hat emerged, with a uniformed man with forest green hair. "Don't mind me, only here escorting your new instructor, yes, see?" he flipped the psychic paper under the golden tufted man's nose.

"Instru… Instructor, yes," he looked like he'd been stung by a bee who then soothed his sting. "Excellent, yes, well, on with you, ah… Day shift or night?"

"Day shift," Merit spoke.

"To the left then. Ah, young man," he looked to the Doctor. "You'll need to board once these twenty-ones have boarded. It'll be a long wait for the next transport. One year," he chuckled.

"Yes, Sir," the Doctor tipped his hat.

Somewhere down in the bowels of that ship, Clara and Mercedes would be waiting aboard the TARDIS. Before he could get back to them though, the Doctor needed to have some words with Merit.

"Are you really sure you want to do this?" he asked, keeping his voice down, while the twenty-ones filed past.

"I might have done before, but not anymore," Merit told him.

"And why's that?"

"You clearly have some reservations, but for some reason you still brought me, which tells me there's something out there that's convinced you to do it anyway. What was it?"

He was right, so very right. But naturally the Doctor could not tell him this, no more than he could tell him how he'd seen him, his older self at the very least, on the asteroid, in those last moments. It didn't matter how many years had gone by, the Doctor could see it in him, sense it… He had the scent of the TARDIS on him. He knew that Merit Reeslin, or the man he would pose as for the next several years, would remain here, to instruct the diggers, regardless of the fact that his leg had prevented him from knowing the first thing about what he was about to do. He would lie and say he'd been injured later on in life, but it would still leave him at a disadvantage. He would have to learn on the job, to somehow help himself come off as a genuine instructor worthy of the asteroid.

The Doctor knew he would achieve this, too, he had to have done. He'd seen him… He would stay here, and he would be relentless. He would have to be, because once the sickness would inevitably invade this place and its people, he would have to be very, very careful. He had been immunized, so by all means, he shouldn't fall victim to the illness, but then if anyone found this out about him, what would they do? This would leave him with two options, either to somehow convince them that he was sick, or to somehow find a way to bypass his immunization and allow himself to be infected, in which case…

But he would survive, all those years, he would, until the very end, where he would decide to stay aboard the asteroid and let himself be destroyed along with it. He didn't know why he would do this, and he did not want to find out if he didn't have to.

"You understand what you can and can't do," the Doctor just looked him in the eye. "You will look over them. Not only Lenton, all of them."

"I know," Merit nodded.

"You can never tell them who you are, especially him. It will be tempting to tell him the truth, but you must not, under any circumstances."

"I know, Doctor. I only want to look out for him. He fought so hard to find his way back to me. He'll never know that he did, but I can give him the next best thing. I will help him, I'll give him reason to keep hoping. He'll need that." The Doctor clapped Merit on the shoulder as he saw the last of the twenty-ones had gone on board. The golden tufted man was staring at him with reprimand in his eyes.

"And that's me. Goodbye, Merit."

"Goodbye, Doctor. Thank you." The Doctor tipped his hat once more, to him, and then he passed the golden tufted man and boarded the ship. Once he was through, he wound his way back into the lower levels of the ship, getting turned around only once and finally finding his TARDIS. He stepped through her doors, and soon, as the ship departed from the asteroid, the TARDIS dematerialized from its spot and went on its own journey.

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	34. Slow Go

**"The Mistaken M. Jones"**

**34. Slow Go**

_March 2012 – Lima, Ohio_

Brittany didn't know what was making Puck so upset that day, but he'd been going around with a scowl on his face since they'd met up and driven to the building that belonged to the address Puck had copied down after sneaking into the secretary's office. Whenever she asked him what was wrong, he said 'nothing,' and she'd be quiet for a while, feeling like she shouldn't be talking for a while. The fact that he didn't explode at her for trying again and again was a surprise, too.

"This is it, right?" she asked, looking up at the apartment building. He looked at his note again, checked the number at the door.

"That's the one," he frowned. "Come on."

They went up to the door… but when they tried to enter, it was locked. They had to get themselves buzzed in. Brittany looked to Puck. He shrugged.

"Trial and error then." He started punching in the apartment numbers. Each time he waited a few seconds, and when he got nothing, he tried another, and another. It took until the fifth number before there was a shrill noise and Puck pulled at the door. They were through that hurdle.

"She's on the third floor, right?" Brittany asked.

"Elevator's that way," he pointed.

"How do we know if she's in or not?" He looked at her now and he was finally starting to get aggravated at her questions. It wasn't that they weren't good questions, ones that needed asking, but it was as though she was reading his mind and giving it voice.

"Can I help you?" They turned to find a man standing at the mailboxes on the wall, key in hand.

"No, we're good, thanks," Puck frowned at him, tapping Brittany's arm. "Come on."

"You don't live here," the man pointed out. "Who are you here to see?" he stepped toward them.

"What are you a cop or something?" Puck was not impressed.

"Or something," the man gave them both a pointed look. "So how about you just leave right now, and I don't have to call in on trespassers." Brittany looked at Puck, shaking her head. She didn't want that to happen. Puck was considering his options, and finally he breathed out and moved past the man, Brittany following him as they left and started back up the street.

When they were gone, Walter smirked to himself, shaking his head as he went to get his mail. Once he had it, he went up to Ginny's… No, _Gemma's_ apartment. It still took him a few tries to remember the name he'd believed to be hers was no more than an alias. He didn't mind it. It wasn't her name he cared for.

He found her sitting cross legged on her bed, writing up what he guessed was her lesson plan for the next day. Ever since he had found out the truth about her, she had welcomed him into her home in what was quite the opposite to the way she used to greet his arrival. He wasn't insulted by that. He understood why she'd done it now. If anything, knowing it made him know that she did care for him, and that was good enough.

"There were some kids trying to sneak in the building," he told her, pointing back toward the door.

"Uh… Wait, what?" she looked up once his words had reached her. "What'd they look like?"

"Well, one of them was a cheerleader, from the look of her uniform."

"Blonde or Latina?"

"Blonde," Walter nodded. "The guy that was with her was sort of angry looking. Had a Mohawk…"

"Puck…" she breathed. "And Brittany." She put the papers down and went to the window, checking to see if she could still spot them. She couldn't see them, but that didn't mean they weren't still hanging around. "Well that's just great," she sighed.

"How do they know where you live?" Walter asked, coming to stand next to her.

"No idea, but I will have to see about that. So how did you get rid of them?"

"I played the mysterious guy, maybe a cop, maybe not…" Gemma chuckled. "What, don't think I can pull it off?" he fixed her with a 'threatening' glare.

"Please, _I'm_ scarier than you."

"I'll take that as a compliment," he bowed his head.

She looked at him, her one true friend in this time and place. _Not just a friend…_ The next thing either of them knew, she'd grasped at the front of his shirt and pulled herself nearer until she was kissing him. As surprised as he was in that first second or two, he quickly got over it, putting his arms around her as he kissed her back. Gemma had been lonely in her months in Lima, so very lonely, and she just might have allowed the kiss to become something else, to quench her need for honesty and human contact, but she wasn't going to get ahead of herself, especially when her circumstances hadn't changed. She would still be gone in a matter of months. Already she was overstepping the bounds she had set for herself, and when she remembered herself, she pulled away.

"Sorry, I… I didn't mean to… I-I shouldn't have…" she couldn't look him in eye, and part of her knew this was for shame, but the other part knew very well the real problem was she wanted to kiss him again.

"I wasn't complaining," he promised, smiling dazedly.

"No, I know, and it was… it was nice… very, oh so nice…" she shivered. "But I can't, and you know why," she insisted. This seemed to weigh on him suddenly.

"I do." But his hands were on her face, and he was kissing the top of her head, and she just wanted to stay there, in his arms, her forehead pressed to his chest and feeling his heart beat. All it had taken had been to let him properly into her world, even just that little she had allowed, and she knew she was in real trouble. He was everything she'd thought him to be, all those good things… and she'd never get to keep him.

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	35. Convergence

**"The Mistaken M. Jones"**

**35. Convergence**

_March 2012 – Lima, Ohio_

Quinn had managed to ditch Santana the day before, keeping her from having to have That Conversation with her, but it was only a small respite, she knew. She'd been so cornered by Mercedes that she hadn't been able to get them somewhere so she could be sure that they wouldn't be heard, and she hadn't been able to think through what she was actually telling her, so near to being in the open. And for that, Santana had overheard them. The victory on the girl's face had made Quinn wish she could get up and smack it right off of her.

She barely managed to roll through the doors the next morning before Santana slipped in behind her and took control of her wheelchair.

"If I were you, I would keep it cool," she spoke at her ear, and Quinn held her tongue, gripping at the chair as she was led into the empty choir room. She had a feeling Santana was relishing this position of power over her, not only in that she could get her wherever she wanted, but also that she could than stand and look down over her like a giantess. "Is there something you want to tell me… Quinnie?"

"Yeah, you should really get that thing under your chin checked out," Quinn pointed, and Santana's hand slapped up under her chin, feeling around. When Quinn smirked, she let go with a frown.

"Having fun?"

"Yes, it's just a carnival down here," she replied, dripping sarcasm as she tapped the chair she was confined to. "Just so we're clear, if you pull this kind of crap on me, I will start packing a stick in here…"

"Wanky," Santana tipped her head.

"… to push you away, since I can't reach your face," Quinn finished.

"Yes, well you don't have a leg to stand on… literally… You've been lying to us. What, did you think the sympathy vote was going to work?"

"Well it did, didn't it?"

"Santana…" They were interrupted when Brittany came into the room, Puck behind her. "We did something last night," she pointed back to Puck, which earned him dagger eyes from Santana.

"Woah, hey, not like that," he held up his hands in innocence.

"Puck wanted us to break into Gemma's place and…"

"Britt, shut up," Santana warned, knowing Quinn was right there and, being Gemma's helper, she'd no doubt report this to her.

"… we had her address, and we went there, but then there was this guy. I think he must have been a spy or a secret agent or something."

"He was not," Puck insisted, frowning.

"What's the matter, do you miss juvie?" Santana still glared at him, thinking of the trouble he might have gotten Brittany into.

"You can't tell me she's not hiding anything," Puck shook his head.

"What's going on?" The four turned to see Sugar standing at the door.

"Nothing," Santana and Puck both said, but they weren't convincing her. She turned her head back to look into the hall. "Artie!" she called. "Come here, come here!" she waved in semi-urgency.

"Don't get him into this," Puck moved toward the door to try and shut her out, but Sugar held her ground.

"Too late," she glared as fiercely as she could, a flare of Padra emerging. It was so clear a difference that it caught him by surprise, allowing for Artie to arrive and wheel into the room.

"Great, the narc's here. Going to rat us out, are you?" Puck glared at Artie, but the other boy was not so much concerned about him than he was about seeing all of them standing around that room, all of them looking like they were just moments away from a smackdown.

"What, him, too?" Santana piped in. "Is this like a required thing, have a chair, spy on your friends?"

"What is she talking about?" Sugar asked, confused. Puck was staring at Quinn though, and she could try to look like she had no idea what Santana was going on about all she wanted, but Puck could see through her better than most people.

"Quinn?" he asked.

"Well can you really blame her?" she finally sighed. "Look at yourselves. Breaking into apartment buildings…" she stared up at him.

"He did what?" Sugar blurted out, looking panicked.

"We didn't even get anywhere, the spy kicked us out," Brittany insisted.

"You, too?" Sugar looked at her.

"He wasn't a spy!" Puck and Santana told Brittany at the same time.

"Enough!" Artie's voice rose, but his effort fell flat. They were only getting louder, each voice burying the others'. It got loud enough that their voices carried into the hall, and finally they reached Will, who came through the door and made his way in the middle of the argument and achieved what Artie had not managed to do.

"What is going on here, what are you all fighting about?" he asked loudly. Every last voice extinguished at once, all of them standing still primed to shout but at the same time there was something going from one set of eyes to the other. It was one thing for them to argue this amongst themselves, but they were not bringing Schuester into this.

"Nothing," Puck finally spoke, and the others nodded.

"Right," Artie piped in, which only got him a look from Puck that seemed to say 'stay out of this, it's all your fault.'

"You expect me to believe that?" Will looked from one to the next, looking for the one who'd break. "Brittany? What happened?" The others looked at her. It took a few seconds, but she shrugged.

"We were doing anger management exercises. It's good to let things out," she nodded. The rest of them tried not to look so impressed with how she handled this, but then it did the trick, so that was what really mattered.

The argument, before it had broken, hadn't just brought Will into their midst. Out in the hall, Gemma Lucas had watched the last seconds of the shouting match before Will had broken it up. Before they could see her, she'd slipped away. This wasn't how it was supposed to go, was it? They were supposed to work together, not fight… She needed to talk to the Doctor.

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	36. Got Your Back

**"The Mistaken M. Jones"**

**36. Got Your Back**

_March 2012 – Lima, Ohio_

She wouldn't let him in at first. He hadn't been able to get the previous day out of his head, when she'd just suddenly kissed him, but soon after that she'd asked him to leave, not because she was upset at him but because she needed to be alone, so he had gone. But he had needed to talk to her, to make sure they were okay and she knew he would be whatever she needed to be and not be in her life; he just wanted to be near her while he could.

But he'd knocked at her door, and he knew she was inside, and she wouldn't open the door. He'd actually started to walk back down the hall toward the elevator when he heard her door open.

"Can you do something for me right now?" she'd called to him, and as he turned he wasn't sure if that something would be 'leave me alone' or 'come here.'

Now he was sitting in her apartment, watching as she sat up in her bed, back against the wall, legs crossed, eyes shut. Maybe it was the knowledge that some of the kids from her school had found where she lived and tried to get up here, as far as they could tell, but she wanted him to keep lookout.

"Are you going somewhere?" he'd asked, not seeing why she couldn't do this herself. She'd just given a knowing sort of smile and then she'd explained it to him, as best she could.

"Remember how I told I was here to help a friend? She's called the Doctor; she's the alien," she revealed. He took it in stride, so she went on. "Before she sent me here, she taught me to do something, so I could contact her, it's like… not telepathy, but close. I send the message," she pointed to her head, "And the Doctor, she has this thing, psychic paper, and the message goes to it." He was staring at her like he wasn't entirely sure a third eye wouldn't sprout from her forehead. "Just stay there, and if anyone comes knocking…"

"I'll keep them away… Got it… Yes." He took a chair, posted it near the door, and he sat. When she took her position and closed her eyes, he hesitated before speaking. "How long does it usually take?"

"Depends," she said, eyes still closed. Even then he didn't have to ask 'on what,' because he understood she meant 'on if I have silence.' He was quiet for a few seconds more, but he couldn't keep from asking.

"Does it hurt?"

"No," she breathed.

After that, he'd let her be. Whatever he needed to say, he figured he was better off waiting. So he did. He watched her the whole time, watched how calm she looked. If they didn't know what she was doing, they might think she was meditating. But he knew, and he thought he could almost see it, how her mind reached out. He had no idea what she was trying to tell this friend of hers, but he understood it was important. Every once in a while he would try and listen hard, to make sure no one was coming up the hallway. The one time he heard something, he stood, very quietly, and he pulled the door open just a sliver. It was only Gemma's neighbor returning with groceries, so he shut the door again and resumed his post.

It took ten minutes before she finally opened her eyes, and when he saw her wavering, just a little bit, he moved up toward her, sat next to her.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, fine," she promised, rubbing at her head. "I'm getting used to it, but I don't think I ever will, not completely," she admitted.

"So what happens now?" His hand was at her back, rubbing mindlessly so it might help her recover. She was aware of it, and whether or not it was encroaching on her boundaries, she didn't really mind, because it did help.

"Well," she sighed. "She'll send me a reply… most times it's already there before I've even sent the message. Time travel, you know," she shrugged.

"Sure," he nodded, which made her laugh. "So she doesn't just send a message back to your head or…"

"No, good old fashion paper, writing, in an envelope." His hand stilled.

"An envelope?" he asked.

"Yeah, like this, see?" she reached over to the hiding place where she kept the previous messages. She showed him the small blue envelopes, the edges torn open.

"And like this?" he reached into his back pocket and produced a small blue envelope, identical to the others except for the part where it wasn't ripped open yet.

"Where'd you get that?" she took it from him, turning it around in her hands. On the front, the letters were traced in gold. _G.L._

"It was in my mailbox when I got home," he explained. "I was bringing it to you, figured it'd be as good a reason as any to stop by. But then you asked me to stand guard and I sort of forgot about it." He paused, while she kept staring at the envelope. "Why was it in my box, what does it mean?" It couldn't even have been an error on the mailman's part, could it? Their boxes were not close to each other.

"It means the Doctor knows about you, knows that you'd bring it to me," she sighed.

"Why?" he frowned, not sure he got it.

"That would be her way of telling me she knows about you, knows that you know."

"And now she wants me to… back off?"

"I don't know," Gemma shook her head, tearing the side of the envelope and pulling the note from within. Walter didn't want to intrude, but it was stronger than him and he tried to see what was on the card.

There weren't words, only some numbers. It didn't even look like coordinates.

"What does that mean?" he asked, but she was already fishing in her hiding place again, pulling out a small book. She leafed through it, looking at the card again. The pages of the notebook were neatly handwritten. Whatever she was looking for, Gemma found it, and when she did, she smiled. "Gemma? What does it say?"

She wasn't paying attention; she was still rereading what the page said, the one she'd been told to look up. The message had been cryptic when she'd first read the page, when she'd read the whole thing, but now, with the context she had, it suddenly made sense.

"Oh, well it's about time," she beamed.

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	37. End of the Line

**"The Mistaken M. Jones"**

**37. End of the Line**

_Inside the TARDIS_

Her adventure had been sneaking away from her piece by piece, ever since the cuff had fallen from her arm. First they had said their goodbyes to Annabel and Gravis and their daughter, and then they had taken Merit into the past, to the asteroid… Mercedes still had some difficulty accepting what this would mean for him. She knew why he wanted it, and she would by no means put herself in his way if it was what he wanted, but knowing what they all knew, Merit included, it felt like such a bad way for his story to end. As they'd waited, she and Clara had had enough time to consider it all, and they had left the subject with the decision that if it would make him happy, or at peace at least, then they had nothing to say.

Then when the Doctor had come back and they'd departed, Mercedes had known exactly where they'd go next. This was it, the end of her adventure. They were taking her home, to her own time and her own city.

"What do you think happened to him?" she asked; it was her last chance to do it. "Lenton. What happened to him that he was wounded like that and he came to me? If he hadn't been hurt, he would have gone through it all, and he would have been back there, with Merit. They could have lived out their lives together," she bowed her head.

"I don't know," the Doctor admitted. It had been something that plagued him, too, and if he'd been there, if he'd been able to gain more information than this, he might have known what to tell her, but he didn't. "But see, it was always going to be this way, wasn't it?" he told her, hoping maybe this would comfort her. "If Lenton had been the one to return to Earth, to enter that world, he would not have been the one to do what you did, and those people on the asteroid, they might not have been saved."

"Yeah, I guess…" She still wished she had more of an answer than this.

Clara had brought her a stack of clothes which she soon realized were her own, the ones she'd had in the beginning, when she'd landed, before she'd had to change into that uniform.

"How did you…" she started to ask, but she was merely ushered off to go change.

Before long, the TARDIS had come to a stop. When she opened the door, Mercedes blinked. This was the very same day, the place, where she'd disappeared from. The Doctor told her she needed to keep these past few days to herself, couldn't tell anyone. She promised she would keep the secret. They said their goodbyes, and after she'd stood by to watch the police box disappear, she'd turned and started on her way back home, to the old college debacle with her parents.

"So, about the hair," Clara pulled off the canary bun, as the TARDIS went off. The Doctor startled, staring at the cascade of messy brown curls.

"Blimey…" he breathed.

"Salon, now. As I recall, you did say I was the boss," she smirked. He tried to argue, but instead he closed his mouth and he flipped a switch.

X

_In the year 4540_

Lenton Daen could hardly believe that he was looking at it, that he was holding it. The specifications he'd made had been programmed into it, and soon the cuff would take him back. _Earth, my home… thirty-one years ago._ Merit would only be sixteen at that point, and he didn't know what he would do when he found him, if he would even manage to say anything. He'd see them, and that might have been enough. He still wore his old uniform, the one he'd left the asteroid in, years ago, when his search for the cuff hadn't yet begun. For some reason he couldn't make himself part with it. Many of them might have chosen to burn it, a symbol of their old lives; maybe he needed to remember.

The numbers on the inside of the cuff were counting down, still several minutes to go. Once he made his first jump, he wouldn't be able to take it off anymore, not until the cycle was complete. He wished it would lock already; he never wanted to lose it, not for all the work that went into tracking it down.

Then he heard something, a commotion nearby, something loud, rhythmic, like boots... He was drawn to go and find out what it was, and when he did, he paused. It couldn't be… _Judoon…_ He'd heard about them before, had never seen them, but then there was no mistaking it.

Some passersby stared briefly at the small pack of them, but they didn't stick around. They were not targeted, and that was good enough for them. Lenton would have gone, too, but then he saw something, and he didn't have to look long to understand this was what the Judoon were after. A man and woman were hurrying along, and the Judoon were following; some of them were reaching for their weapons. The man and woman didn't look at all like they belonged in this situation, and the next thing he knew, Lenton was hurrying toward them.

"Here, over here!" he called to them. They looked in his direction, and they veered to follow. He let them get past him, and that would be his undoing.

The Judoon's shot had not hit him squarely, if anything it barely glared off of him, but it had been enough. To their credit, the man and woman didn't abandon him to his fate, there on the ground. They picked him up, one arm over each of their shoulders, and they ran with him, until they could get cover.

"Did we lose them?" the man asked.

"I don't know, just be quiet," the woman begged, crouching to look at Lenton's injury. She frowned; it didn't look good.

"Please…" he panted. "I have to…" he cringed, pain shooting through him. "I have to go…" he showed his arm, the cuff. The woman stared long at it, and if he hadn't been so stricken with pain, he might have seen the realization hit her. As it was, she only pulled her sleeve back, revealing a different kind of cuff, this one made of leather. She started tapping in some sequence he couldn't see. "What are you…"

"Listen to me," she said, taking his hand and placing it over her cuff. "You have to look for the one called Jones, she will help, she knows the Time Lord. Find her, find Mercedes Jones." She doubted that he had caught the end of it. He had disappeared just as she said it. She sat back on the ground, looking up over her shoulder.

"What do we do now?" Walter asked. Gemma frowned.

"Well, they found us… again. We'll have to think of something, won't we?"

TO BE CONCLUDED (TOMORROW)


	38. Attention, Class

**"The Mistaken M. Jones"**

**38. Attention, Class**

_March 2012 – Lima, Ohio_

It was nearly lunch time, but Mercedes wasn't thinking about that. She was in Gemma's class again, and like the last time, she kept finding herself staring at her. There were these things she knew, from her own adventure, and things she'd found out through Quinn, but the woman who was meant to be a teacher but clearly couldn't have been remained… a mystery.

And then, with only five minutes left, she had almost abruptly stopped. She'd turned to face the class and smiled.

"Alright, I think that's just about it. There's only a few minutes left, but that'll be all for today, so…" The class had already turned into a chorus of chairs scratching on the ground, people shuffling to pick up their things and leave. Mercedes was doing the same, but then… "Mercedes?" Gemma spoke, and she turned to her.

"Yes?"

"I need you to come with me," she tipped her head, pulling her bag on to her shoulder.

"Why, I…"

Gemma just ushered her out of the classroom and into the hall. She stopped for a moment as though she was trying to remember something, but then she turned the other way and walked on. Mercedes could only follow her.

They went up to another classroom, an occupied one by the sound of it. Gemma only opened the door enough to poke her head in.

"Sorry to interrupt, I need to borrow a couple of your students." The teacher must have given a silent approval, Mercedes never heard a reply. "Quinn, Brittany?" A few seconds later, the girls emerged. When they saw Mercedes standing there, they looked at her questioningly. Mercedes could only shrug. "This way, girls," Gemma went on. They followed.

They made another stop, which got them Puck, another for Santana, and finally Artie and Sugar. It didn't take them long, looking amongst themselves, to figure what this might be about. With who she'd gathered, this could have been something to do with Glee Club, but then there was something else that connected them all, the very thing that involved her, too. If this was about Glee Club, they would be very surprised.

She took them into the empty choir room, which might have been the cue for surprise, but once they sat down, she went and shut the doors and she came back to stand before them. For a while, none of them spoke, and they heard the bell that indicated classes were letting out for lunch. It almost felt like she was baiting them, waiting to see if anyone would say what she knew they were dying to say. It was almost to none of their surprise that Santana was the first to speak.

"So, where did you go to school? What qualifications does one need to be a substitute teacher?" she asked, presenting herself 'highly interested,' poised to receive her answer. Gemma smirked at her, then shrugged.

"I wouldn't know, would I? But then you know all about that. You know exactly who I am." As eager as they'd all been to know, to get the chance to talk openly with her, when she did 'reveal' herself, they were as taken aback as Artie had been when she'd done it for him. "Right about here you're about to start talking all at once, please don't do that," she raised her hand, and they stayed quiet. Brittany raised her hand. "I… Yes, Brittany," she pointed at her like they were in class.

"Are you really the Doctor's companion?"

"I am, yes," Gemma smiled. "Though it's been a few months since I've seen her… obviously."

"So he… she can really just change like that?" Sugar blinked. Gemma looked at her, and her warning was discreet: be careful. She might have been revealing who she was, but Sugar couldn't; Padra couldn't.

"Why are you telling us this now?" Puck asked.

"Well, I was going to wait until you broke into my home, but what do you know, I was all out of tea. You wouldn't want to make me look like a bad host, would you?" Gemma stared at him, and few were the women who could make Noah Puckerman come to heel, but he didn't reply after that.

"Something's changed, hasn't it?" Quinn guessed.

"In a way," Gemma nodded.

"Are there more of us?" Artie asked. Already so many of them were here, all of them from the Glee Club, so who knew?

"I'd try to deny it, but this is not what this meeting is about, so all I'll say is yes. I can't tell you how many, or who they are. They couldn't even tell you. You have all met the Doctor. They _will_ meet the Doctor, but they haven't done it yet, which means this next part will be… trickier."

"So then what is this 'meeting' about?" Santana asked. "Are you finally going to tell us what the hell you're doing here?"

"I can't tell you 'what the hell I'm doing here,' not yet, not in that way, but soon enough all will become clear. All I can tell you for now is that, when the moment does come, you will need to work together, and that's why we're here. I let you come to figure some things out on your own, so that you might get stronger together, but when I saw things were starting to degenerate…" They at least looked a little bit sorry for this. "… I reached out to the Doctor, and she agreed it was time we stopped working our own angles. So here we are, all of us, in one room. You've shared something, and that's important." They looked to one another. Mercedes in particular had had no idea there were so many of them, but now she knew. "You don't have to stay. If you do leave however, you'll have to keep keeping that secret all to yourselves. But if you stay… If you stay, then I need you."

THE END

_A/N: The next story in the series, "Instrumental Glory," begins tomorrow._


End file.
